The Tournament of Demontarity
by Lady Darkshine
Summary: *FINISHED!--> May.13th* At a school called Dryconderoga, Hermione fears for the life of Harry Potter; he's in another differcult Tournament and one of the other champions is out to kill him!
1. Harry Potter?

_Harry Potter and the Tournament of Demontarity_

Hermione quickly made her way through the tangled bodies pressing in on her to get to the Hogwarts express with her rather heavy trunk. She greeted all her friends from last year, all except for Harry and Ron. She hadn't heard from them in two months.

            "Hey! Hermione!"

Hermione looked up and saw Ron's noticeable red hair bobbing in the middle of the crowd near the last compartment of the scarlet train. She grinned, feeling warmness spread all through her. She quickly made her way to him. To her left was Fred and George, who were pouring what looked like over-grown spiders down Percy's back and Mrs. Weasley screaming at them with Ginny beside her. But Harry was nowhere in sight.

"Where's Harry?" Hermione asked, lifting her truck into the compartment. Ron frowned, and pointed to the station's exit.

"Talking to Sir-er-Snuffles. S'pect he'll take a while," he said. Sure enough, Hermione could just see Harry, his back turned to them, a far ways off, with a large, shaggy black dog in front of him.

"What are they talking about?" Hermione asked Ron, stepping onto the train. She pushed her trunk into the compartment with the rest of the trunks.

"When did you become so nosy?" asked Ron, smirking, "Dunno. I haven't seen him yet, but his trunk was already here before anyone else's."

Hermione sat down in one of the seats, and Ron sat in front of her. He turned around, and followed her gave out the window at Harry.

"He'd better hurry if he doesn't want to be stuck with those miserable Muggles," he growled. Then he mumbled something under his breath that sounded an awful lot like 'slimy gits'. Hermione shook her head, and looked back out the window at Harry, but he wasn't there. Sirius was gone, and he wasn't in any of the throbbing crowds forcing themselves into a compartment. Then, the compartment door slid open and Ginny burst in. She was red in the face, and her hands were held up to her mouth. Ron looked bewildered.

"Ginny, what's up with you?" he asked her, then his face contorted to rage, "Fred didn't put a slimy spider down your back too, did he?"

Ginny flopped down on a seat, pretending she hadn't heard him. Hermione had never seen her look this nervous before; it looked as though her hands would fall off if she twisted them any more. Just then, the compartment door slid open again, and someone Hermione had never seen before stepped inside. Wait. Had she seen him before? He looked so familiar.

He was wearing Muggle clothes like everyone else, but his jeans and black shirt seemed darker and more conspicuous like. His messy jet-black hair went every which way on his head, leaving his bright green eyes visible. But Hermione could see something else. There was a lightning bolt-shaped scar fixed upon his forehead.

It hit Hermione hard that she was looking at Harry… only he didn't look like himself. He looked so much different and…older…without his glasses in the way. His eyes even seemed several times brighter. Ginny was stuttering in the corner, loss for words. Then Harry saw that Ron was about to ask him something. He shook his head.

"Don't ask," he mumbled, flopping down into a seat opposite from Hermione, "Just don't ask."

Hermione stared at him as he buried himself into his hands, looking very miserable. At this time, Hermione jumped when the train shot forwards, and the station disappeared from view. Harry sighed unevenly, and laid his head back to look at the ceiling. Ron gulped, and forced himself to speak.

"What did you do?" he asked. Hermione shot him an angry look, glaring at him. He shrugged and looked over at Harry.

"Sirius visited me at the Dursleys," said Harry quietly, looking over at them. Hermione's mouth fell open, ignoring Ginny's squeaks from the corner of the compartment.

"W-what?" she asked, "But-why?"

"He told the Dursleys off when he heard they were trying to keep me away from Hogwarts," said Harry, his green eyes fixed on her. It made Hermione shiver, yet she didn't know why.

"Bloody miserable blokes," Ron grumbled angrily, "I bet they deserved it, right?"

"Yeah, they did," said Harry, forcing a weak smile, "Now I can keep my trunk and broom in my room."

"They should let you do that anyways," said Hermione, "I've heard things about you Aunt and Uncle, but this-"

Ron sneered, leaned over to Harry and said-"she only said that because you couldn't do your essays without your trunk." Then he darted out of the way to avoid Hermione's fist.

A few hours went by and a few of their friends came by to visit. Lee Jordan only came in to find his giant spider that he had lost, making Ron leap up to his seat in terror of being eaten. Lavender and Parvati came in to visit Hermione, but were suddenly thrown into a fit of girlish giggles by the sight of Harry. Both Dean and Seamus visited them, and played a game of exploding snap with Ron. Harry didn't want to play, so he sat in his seat and stared out the window at the passing villages. Hermione watched him for a few moments, his heart sinking. She picked up Crookshanks off her lap, and sat down in the seat in front of him.

"What's up with you?" she asked, trying to keep a friendly atmosphere. Harry looked at her, making her shiver again.

"Nothing," he said, but he caught a doubtful look from her, "Nothing. Really."

Hermione soon gave up, and put Crookshanks into his lap.

"You brought him in here?" he asked. Hermione nodded vigorously.

"You don't think I'd leave him in a cage, do you?" she said, smirking. Crookshanks purred, and buried himself into Harry's lap. Harry grinned.

"I think you should read this. Ron too," he said suddenly, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans. He pulled out a piece of parchment with a very hurried scrawl over it. Ron appeared at Hermione's shoulder, and read the writing:

_Harry_

_I hope the Dursleys leave you alone now. But if they do anything else like that, send a word. I've moved closer to Hogwarts is case anything happens. I think Voldemort will leave you alone for a while after last year, so don't worry about anyone but yourself._

_ You, Ron and Hermione will be doing things differently this year since the Tournament is over and Voldemort is on the loose. Please, Harry, watch yourself, and maybe you could get Hermione to teach you a few more spells you may need. Buckbeak is doing fine, other than the fact that he's been eating all the supplies._

_                                                                                                                                                            Keep out of trouble this year –Snuffles._

           "And your O.K with him staying close to Hogwarts?" asked Ron, as Hermione gave the letter back to Harry.

"No," he answered, "but Dumbledore said the Dementors can't get near him… something about a protection spell."

"Why did he say you-know-who will leave you alone after-" said Ron, but he was interrupted by Hermione stomping on his foot.

"Ow! What did you do that for?" he said angrily, but the compartment door slid open again, and three people Hermione would have least wanted to see were in the doorway: Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. With a scream, Ginny ran out of the corner and flashed past Malfoy into the corridor, blushing magenta at the odd look Harry gave her on the way out.

"Well, isn't it Weasel, Mudblood and Pot-" spat Malfoy, but he stopped when he looked at Harry. His eyes were reduced to slits and he had the same look fixed on his face when he was about to say something stupid.

"What happened to you, Potter?" he asked, while Crabbe and Goyle shook with suppressed laughter, "You changed from four eyes to only two?"

"Stuff it, Malfoy," said Ron, and Harry stood up in case he needed to hold him back. Malfoy laughed, and waved three fingers in front of Harry's face.

"How many fingers am I holding up, Potter?" he asked, sneering coldly. Harry balled his fists.

"To bad, really," he said coolly, "If only Moody was here. You _do_ make a good ferret, Malfoy."

Beside Hermione, Ron howled. He seemed to crack whenever someone mentioned the word 'ferret' at any time. But before Malfoy and his goons could make out what he had just said, Harry pushed them out of their compartment with the back of their robes, and locked the door. The angry pounding on the door lasted for a while until they had given up, and headed back to their own compartment.

"That was brilliant!" cried Ron after he recovered. Hermione watched at Harry flopped back down into his seat, looking even more miserable than before. Ron's happy mood died quickly.

"What's up, Harry?" he asked him, "Do you have any idea what you just did?"

Hermione glared at Ron, and mouthed 'you are so insensitive' to him. Hermione sat in front of Harry, and turned around so she could talk to him.

"He called you a Mudblood again," growled Harry under his breath, "Stupid git."

Hermione went red and she felt rather flattered.

"I know, I heard, Harry," she said, "That's a really good move though, to get Malfoy back like that. Don't let it bother you."

"I can't believe Malfoy," said Ron, punching his seat, "I reckon he'll act like he owns Hogwarts again this year."

"But what does that have to do with you?" said Hermione, "Don't let him get to you, Ron-"

"Him? Get to me? As if!" said Ron loudly, sitting into a seat and folding his arms. Harry and Hermione looked at each other, and shrugged.

What were once small towns and villages were now fields of wheat and dairy cows as they streaked down the countryside. Malfoy and Ginny never appeared in their compartment, which was good for Harry and Hermione; Ron's bad mood continued for the rest of the train ride. Slowly, the clouds lifted, revealing a deep purple sky with bright stars plastered across the horizon. Soon enough, the lady with the food cart came by and Harry bought everything she had to share except the new lemon drops that would scream at you if you chewed them to loudly.

"We must be nearly there," said Harry, leaning forwards to look past Ron into the completely blank window. The words had barely left him when the train started slowing down, and a voice carried through each of the compartments- "Five minutes 'till we reach Hogwarts!"

"Brilliant," said Ron happily, quickly recovering from his temper, "I'm starving. I want to get to the feast."

Hermione pulled off her jacket, and slipped on her Hogwarts robes with Harry and Ron. At long last, the train came to a complete stop, and there was a great hurry to get out; owls hooted, cats hissed and toads croaked. Hermione shivered in the cold breeze on the tiny platform.

"Firs' year this way!" called a familiar voice. Harry, Ron and Hermione turned to see the gigantic outline of Hagrid at the other end of the platform beckoning nervous looking first year towards him.

"All righ' you three?" Hagrid yelled over the heads of the crowd. They happily waved back at him, but had no chance to talk to him as the massive crowd carried them away across the platform. They quickly made their way down a muddy sloping hill with the rest of the students, where at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited the remaining students, each pulled by what looked like an invisible horse.

Harry, Ron and Hermione climbed into one, shut the door, and the coach set off all by itself, bumping and swaying in procession.

"Hey," said Ron suddenly, "I wonder who the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is. I bet he'll be out to get you, eh, Harry? Harry?"

But Harry wasn't listening. Hermione looked over at him, and saw his face contort to fright as he stared out the window. She looked over the seat, and gasped. She saw about half a dozen towering hooded Dementors, standing guard on either side of the entrance gates. Hermione quickly sat next to Harry closest to the window to block his view. He leaned back in his seat and clamped his eyes shut until they had passed through the gates.

"They better not be here all year," said Harry darkly, looking over his shoulder. The carriage picked up speed on the long, slopping drive up to the castle; Ron was leaning out the window, watching the many towers and turrets draw nearer. At last, the carriage came to a complete halt; Harry, Ron and Hermione climbed out. The three of them joined the crowd swarming up the steps, through the giant oak front doors, and into the grand entrance hall.

The door into the Great Hall stood open at the right; they followed everyone inside. The four house tables were being loaded with anxious students in a disarray of tangles bodies while the staff table was facing to the back, under the enchanted ceiling that was a sunny light blue today. Hermione could see Dumbledore chatting merrily to Flitwick in the middle of the table. They made their way past the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables as quickly as possible; people looked around at them as they passed, and a few pointed at Harry.

"Just ignore them, Harry," said Ron, sitting down in a vacant seat at the Gryffindor table. Hermione sat between Harry and a very nervous looking Ginny, noticing most of the other Gryffindors leaned forwards in their seats to look at Harry.

"Hurry up with the sorting," whined Ron, patting his stomach, "I can't wait."

The words were no sooner out of his mouth when the doors of the Great hall opened, and silence fell. Professor McGonagall was leading a long line of terrified looking first years up to the top of the hall. They filed along the staff table and came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school. Professor McGonagall disappeared for a moment, and came back with a three-legged stool, and a very ole, battered looking wizards hat. She set them in front of the line of the first years, and they stared at it. So did everyone else. Then a tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into a song:

Well, you're the new batch of first years,

_Looking quite nervous, I must say,_

_To ease your vast worries and woes,_

_I'll tell you a story, of our remarkable history today!_

_There lived four wizards of enormous powers,_

_Each with a spot of special know-how, _

_Of brave, amiable, clever and ambitious,_

_Their talent has never been matched, until now!_

_Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,_

_All related with fabulous talent,_

_They are the ones of great deeds and triumphs,_

_So brave and spirited and valiant! _

_Now, we must not forget sweet Hufflepuff!_

_Those achievers know to meet their ends,_

_Have you met a companion yet?_

_Depend on those charming to be your friend!_

_Or perhaps I will tell about Ravenclaw,_

_Smart in the head and truth do they know,_

_I could tell you about their bright minds,_

_Never have they dealt with a bully, rival or foe! _

_Yet, Slytherin, those eager, young folk,_

_Are far more different than the rest,_

_They'll teach you all they know, my friends,_

_So clearly, they're the best!_

_These wizards built a fine, young school,_

_Still popular to this date,_

_They whipped out their magic and talent,_

_And now our dim minds lay in their fate!_

_They made Hogwarts, I tell you,_

_With all the strength they could seek,_

_And from now to then, we've flourished,_

_Our gracious family has reached its peek!_

_Since then, our founders have passed on,_

_Perished, disappeared and some say gone,_

_But now today, it's safe to say,_

_Their reputation still gives on!_

_There is some part of them left, however,_

_And it involves what is in front of you,_

_I can give you thee chances (though I'm not very patient)_

_Master Gryffindor left me to choose!_

_He whipped me off his head in a jovial way,_

_And sent me to this stool,_

_Don't judge on what you see, my friends,_

_For I'm the ultimate Sorting tool!_

_Place me about your head,_

_Tuck me over your ears, _

_Let me choose what house is right for you,_

_Then be greeted with welcoming cheers!_

_So go on, don't be afraid,_

_Let's encourage those who begin,_

_I'll have a peek inside your mind,_

_And tell where you'd fit in!_

           The great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished. Professor McGonagall was unrolling a long scroll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you are to put on the hat, and sit on the stool," she told the first years, "When the hat announces your house, you will go sit at the approximate table."

"Amble, Sally"

A short little girl walked forwards, visibly trembling from head to foot, picked up the hat, put it on her head and sat down on the stool.

"Hufflepuff!" shrieked the hat at once. She scurried to the Hufflepuff table as they applauded enthusiastically. Next Baddack, Jeff joined the Ravenclaw table. The line was getting shorter and shorter as Professor McGonagall called out more names. Dean and Seamus leaned over to talk to look at Harry.

"Hey, Harry!" said Dean, "You are Harry Potter, aren't you?"

Harry, however, looked furiously at them as Cauldwell, Freviolr was declared a Gryffindor.

"Of course I am!" he said loudly to them, "Keep it down, will you?"

All attention at the table was drawn upon Harry now. Lavender and Parvati were thrown into a huge fit of giggles, and Ron swore at them.

The Sorting continued; boys and girls all looking frightful approached the hat, and one by one, they sat at their house tables. And finally, when "Whitby, Jason' was declared a Gryffindor, and the applause ended, the hat was taken away by Professor McGonagall.

"'Bout time," moaned Ron, peering expectantly at his golden plate. Dumbledore stood up from the staff table, beaming at the excited students, his arms open in welcome. 

"Tuck in!" he called, and instantly, the dishes and plates filled with mouth-watering foods. Hermione forked a pork chop when Harry was holding out a plate that was full of them.

"You gave up that spew stuff now?" asked Ron in a mouth full of potatoes. Hermione swallowed hard in attempt to speak without spitting food.

"It's not spew!" she said crossly, "It's S.P.E.W, Ron. And yes, I gave it up."

"Which means more studying in the library, right?" asked Harry, looking at her over his goblet of pumpkin juice, "Are you planning on getting any sleep this year, Hermione?" 

Hermione felt herself flush red in the face, and Ron snickered. But Hermione suddenly jumped at the voice she had just heard over her shoulder. Nearly Headless Nick was staring at Harry with a mixture of cheerfulness and curiosity in his misty eyes.

"What happened to you, Harry?" he asked, "You look so much different, without the glasses and all."

"I'll tell you later, Nick," Harry mumbled with a hasty look, making Nick sit back down at the end of the Gryffindor table. Hermione looked at Harry uncertainly.

"Later," he said again, noticing this. Ron nodded, and continued to scarf down the rest of his leftovers. They didn't talk much after that. Ron only swore at Fred and George for pointing and whispering at Harry in awe, while Hermione cast weary looks in Harry's direction. He was acting do miserable and odd; it made her shiver.

When the puddings, too, had been eaten, and the last crumbs had faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Dumbledore stood up from the staff table. The buzz of chatter filling the hall died down almost at once.

"Now that were are all feed and watered," he began, beaming at them all, "I must ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices."

Hermione, Ron and Harry looked at each other.

"It is my pleasure to introduce you to this years Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Silversmith."

He was pointing at the staff table, and when they all looked over, Ron snorted with laughter. The most odd-looking man got to his feet, and waved at them all. Silversmith had the longest fingernails Hermione had ever seen. His hair looked as tough it were a wig, only real; it was to shinny to tell. His neon orange robes clashed badly with the surroundings, while his eyes were completely black. You couldn't tell who he was looking at. 

He received a very silent applause from all house tables, but he took this as a real treat. He sat back down after a long glimpse of the Hall. Then Dumbledore continued.

"Now… as you have witnessed at the gates, the school is presently under a watchful…er…_eye_ of the Dementors of Azkaban on a mission from the Ministry of magic," he said, not looking at all satisfied about this, judging by his tone, "They are stationed at every entrance of the grounds. Nobody is to leave the grounds without advisement or permission."

Nobody moved or dared to make a sound. Hermione felt Harry stiffen beside her.

"Once Voldemort is spotted far from here, the security will lift. I am sure it will be soon. He has not been seen at all since last year, as told by the Ministry… you can all guess what Voldemort wants here, but I suppose it's not my liberty to tell you if you do not know," he was looking directly at Harry, as did everyone else in the hall.

"On a happier note, Quidditch is back on for, of course, the inter-house cup," Harry let out a sigh of relief here, while Fred and George hooted hysterically, "The first trip to Hogsmeade will be a week from today. Now… off to bed with you all. Off you go!"

Harry, Ron and Hermione stood up, and joined the fleeting crowd of Gryffindors up the marble staircase.

"Silversmith looks a bit over-done, don't you think?" Ron asked them, grinning ear to ear. Harry said nothing. Hermione looked at him; he was staring at the ground, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

"What's with you today?" she asked him, "You haven't said much."

He merely shook his head, not looking at her. She raised her eyebrows at Ron, and sighed. They quickly made their way inside the portrait of the fat lady, mainly because the other Gryffindors were gawking at Harry in disbelief. Ron tried to block their view by walking in front of them.

"G'night Hermione," said Harry, stifling a yawn.

"And no library for you in the early morning!" added Ron, before he bounded up the spiral staircase after Harry. Hermione groaned, and headed up the staircase to her dormitory. She didn't bother to talk to the other Gryffindor girls; the way they acted around Harry! She just slipped on her nightgown, and drifted off into a deep slumber.

**…~'*'~…**

**A/N:** You like? I know the first part might look a bit R/H, but cool your jets. It's not. Pure H/H, and proud of it. Oh, and before I get to carried away, I own lame, old Silversmith (just you wait till the future's chapters!) Everyone else belongs to the wonderful J.K. Rowling. I'm not going to force anyone to review my stories unless you are a good citizen and you have a kind heart (just kidding…)


	2. The Tournament Of Demontarity

"Double potions. I can't wait," said Harry sarcastically, as he read over his timetable over his bowl of oatmeal.

"I was hoping to get out of Potions," said Ron, frowning. Hermione snorted.

            "How many times have I told you?" she asked shrilly, "You can't quit potions until you become of age!"

            "We can if we try," said Harry, a sneer fixed on his face. 

            "Oh, get over it, Harry," said Hermione, prodding her eggs with her fork.

            "No, wait," said Ron, leaning over secretively, "Harry, you might be onto something,"

            Harry burst into laughter. Today would be the first day of their classes and, lucky for them, potions with the Slytherins was first on the list. Hermione didn't see why Snape wouldn't give any of the Gryffindors-particularly Harry-a detention on the first day.

            "Hello," said as misty voice above her and Harry's shoulder. Hermione nearly toppled over her goblet in surprise to see Silversmith barring down at Harry, who was looking at him as though he were mad. He was almost nose-to-nose, with Silversmith staring him down. Silversmith was wearing robes of neon green today, and his hair was in the same position as it was the night before. The other Gryffindors leaned over to watch.

            "Ah, Harry Potter," Silversmith drawled, his black eyes tracing Harry's scar, "You look different. Much older. Green eyes. Raven black hair. Fairly perfect shaped jaw line. You look better. It suits you," he said this all very fast, slowing down at the end of each sentence, "I will see you in class, Harry Potter."

            And he sat back down at the staff table, earning a disapproving stare from McGonagall. Harry looked puzzled, as Ron burst out in laughter.

            "W-what did he just say?" asked Harry, raising his eyebrows, bewildered. Hermione grinned widely.

            "He said you have a fairly perfect shaped jaw line," she said, giggling. He shook his head, and glanced at the other Gryffindors staring at him.

            "Stupid git" said Seamus, "What was that all about?"

            "No idea," answered Harry absentmindedly. The remains of breakfast went fairly quickly. Harry was shooting odd looks in Silversmiths direction, as though he expected for him to leap up and do something completely out of the ordinary.

            Soon enough, they were all heading to the dungeons under the school for potions with the rest of the Gryffindor fifth years, books at hand. Neither of them expected anything good coming from going to potions anyways. They quickly entered the dungeon full of Slytherins and Gryffindors and sat down at the farthest table from Snape, who was staring at Harry with squinted eyes full of hate and loathing. Hermione was too used to this to care. 

            "Now," said Snape coldly, "I hope you all now that this year you will have to be by far smarter than you are. Some of you wont be able to make it," he was looking at Neville as he spook, "But if _any_ of you melt a caldron or miss use _any_ of the equipment this year, there will be _severe_ consequences"

            "What's the change in that?" muttered Ron beside Harry, who kicked him from under the caldron in front of them.

            "We will be making a dangerous potion… _if_ not handled properly," Snape continued, scanning the students with his dark gaze, "It is called a Fire water potion. It can burn right through a persons flesh if touched by a very stupid human being. The contents are at the side of the room, and the instructions are on page six in your books '_Potions for the Advanced'_ if you do not follow the rules and your potion turns the wrong colour or texture, you may not see tomorrows lesson."

            "Wow," said Harry, after the three of them retrieved their potion bottles and brought them to their table, "I never knew it was possible… Snape being more slimy than ever."

            "I hope Neville spills his potion all over him, "said Ron with clenched teeth, "If only I could walk up there, tell him off and-"

            He made a violent gesture in mid air.

            "Ron!" hissed Hermione, "He might hear you!"

            "Yeah… 'a million points from Gryffindor'," said Harry darkly, as he took the leaves of a borsch wig Hermione handed him. 

            "I wouldn't be surprised if he did," said Ron, while cutting roots into precise halves as it said in the book, "The thing is, we would never get a million house points."

            Hermione started to pour the bubbling liquids from the potion bottles into the caldron. Everything seemed to go fairly well, and their caldron was sizzling at the right temperature and with the right potions and roots. Neville kept shooting Hermione nervous glances as if to say 'help me', but they were all under the cold eye of Snape, who was circling the tables like a hawk for anyone who makes one slight mistake. He ignored the snickering and chatting of Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and the other Slytherins; he always had a soft spot for Slytherins. Snape reminding the class shrewdly how well Malfoy had steamed his leaves and how he measured his potion perfectly. 

            Harry and Ron looked as though they didn't mind this to last. Divination was next with Professor Trelawney, and she was the only teacher Hermione hated as much as Snape. Every year, she would predict Harry's death dramatically like it was something real and from the heavens. Harry hasn't died yet; she wished she would stop because when ever she would see the grim in Harry's crystal ball, everyone acted as though Harry would drop dead any minute.

            Soon enough, Snape had reached Harry Ron and Hermione's caldron.

            "This is to thick to my liking," he said, hardly taking a glance at their caldron, "Lets just test it, shall we?"

            He stood up, walked back to his desk, and reached down for something in the shelves. He pulled out a large glass box with three bright green snakes inside; they were hissing and spitting at Snape as he carried them across the room. Everyone watched as he set the cage onto Harry, Ron and Hermione's table, and unhinged the latch. With a small shriek from Neville, all three snakes poured onto the table, their beady black eyes staring at Harry, who was nervously leaning back to avoid the snakes.

            "Potter will feed this potion to these…ahem…_friendly_ snakes," announced Snape, watching Malfoy and the other Slytherin's shake with laughter, "And lets hope he succeeds. These snakes will be dead before you know it if you are smarter than you appear to be."

            Then he passed Harry a small vial. Harry watched the snake hissing for a moment, and looked up at Snape.

            "Hurry up, Potter," Snape said coldly, with a rather nasty grin on his face, "You wont hear the suffer for to long. They'll be dead before you barely pour it down its slimy throat."

            Harry looked over uncertainly at Hermione, who shrugged. He returned his gaze to the waiting snake. A moment later, the snake trashed its head is if to say no.

            "Potter!" snapped Snape, "Come off it! I'm sure you've heard plenty of pain from last year. The soon to be dead cannot wait."

            Now that had done it. Every nervous eye was fixed on Harry now; even the Slytherins stopped laughing. Hermione looked over at Harry. His temples were throbbing on his red face, and the vial he held in his hand looked like it was about to break under the pressure.

            But then something happened that was the least expected. Suddenly, the glass box that held the snakes exploded, sending shards of glass in every direction. Hermione ducked, and covered her head with her arms, and heard all the frightened screams around her.

 Then everything stopped. She looked up, and saw the rooms splattered with pieces of glass. Harry was shaking in rage now, as Snape stared at him disbelievingly. Then the snake turned, and advanced on Snape, hissing uncontrollably. Harry picked up his books and stood up.

"I'm leaving,' he said loudly, and he left through the door without a backwards glance, and as he did, the snake flumped back onto the table. There was silence for a long moment, only broken by the uneven sobs from Neville. Hermione didn't know what happened. What did Harry just do?

            Snape took one hasty look at them all, and pointed a trembling finger to the door.

            "OUT!" he shrieked, "OUT! ALL OF YOU!"

            Nobody hesitated. There was a mad rush to the door, and soon enough, both Hermione and Ron were walking back to the common room with the other Gryffindors while the Slytherins disappeared up another flight of stairs.

            "Miserable slimy git," muttered Ron under his breathe, "You know, Harry did something like that before. Remember? When he blew up his aunt."

            "I know, but that was when his aunt was teasing his parents," gasped Hermione, "That's horrible."

            "Come on," said Ron, "Harry should be in the common room by now."

            After they hurried through a group of Hufflepuffs they reached the portrait hole. And sure enough, when they entered, Harry was coming down the spiral staircase from his dorm. He didn't look well at all.

            "Don't talk to me," he said quietly as he brushed past them. And he left through the portrait again without them. Ron raised his eyebrows.

            "What's with him?"

**…~'*'~…**

Hermione or Ron hadn't seen Harry for the rest of the afternoon until lunchtime. Harry came inside a few minutes after everyone had their first serving. He slipped into seat Ron had saved for him between him and Hermione, trying his best to ignore all the staring eyes.

            "Where were you?" asked Ron at once. But he stopped; Dumbledore stood up from the staff table. The buzz of talk died when he cleared his throat.

            "I have a very important message for all of you at the last minute," he announced, looking careless, "We have an event happening later this week, and it will involve all Hogwarts students of this year."

            Anticipation drifted over the dense sea of eager heads of the students. Hermione held her breath.

            "I do hope you excuse me for such a short explanation, and allow your attention to wander freely," Dumbledore continued, "As I was saying… we are participating in a famous called the tournament of Demontarity with three different school from around the world. We are one of those three schools. I suppose all of you have not heard of Dryconderoga and Nockdernia?"

            A few students at the front row shook their heads silently. Dumbledore smiled.

            "Yes, well, Dryconderoga and Nockdernia will be the other two schools that will participate as Hogwarts will. This event is somewhat similar to the Triwizard Tournament we hosted last year."

            Hermione felt Harry twist uneasily in his seat as a few heads turned his way, and back to Dumbledore.

            "But not nearly as dangerous and unpredictable. Now, one student of the highest ranking and ability will be a champion to represent Hogwarts, and that certain student will be chosen by none other than all the students of Hogwarts. Whenever you feel ready, each of you may vote for who you think would be best to fulfill the position, and put it in here."

            With a wave of his wand, a large bowler hat appeared on the table in front of him.

            "Just remember what this person you are voting for will go through, so choose wisely," added Dumbledore, "In just a few days, I will announce who has been chosen, judging by the number of votes per student. You may start whenever you like."

            And he sat back down at the staff table, and soon after, the curious chatter started again. Ron looked puzzled.

            "What was that all about?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. Hermione shrugged.

            "I think we might have to vote. I mean, we-", but she stopped seeing Harry beside her. He shook his head, folded his arms up on the table, and buried his head into his robes. Fred and George stared at him in sympathy.

            "Uh… Harry?" asked Ron, as Hermione laid her hand on Harry's neck, "You don't look to…er…well."

            "I'm fine," he said, raising his head, and giving a nasty glance at the few people staring at him, "Just tired, I guess."

            Hermione knew he wasn't. He did look exhausted, but he didn't look well at all. She strengthened her voice slightly, and said to him- "Maybe you should go to the hospital wing."

            He looked at her for a moment, and nodded slowly.

            "Yeah, I think I will. See you later," he said, before getting up; everyone suddenly went dead quiet, staring at him.

            "What's up with him?" asked Ron, watching as Harry left through the giant oak doors. Hermione shrugged just when Fred and George leaned over to talk to them

            "You do know, don't you?" Fred asked them. Hermione stared.

            "Know what?" she asked. The twins looked around the hall as if they did not want to be overheard.

            "You know everyone's going to vote for Harry," said George, "I can tell. Remember the Triwizard Tournament last year? Everyone's going to think Harry could handle this too."

            "And Harry knows it," whispered Fred in a hushed tone, "That must be why he's upset and all. Knows he'll be it again. But I don't think that's the half of it."

            "Yeah, he must be thinking of something else too," said George, taking a second glance around the room. Hermione's mouth fell open in awe.

            "Do you know why he… you know-" hissed Ron. The twins shook their heads in unison.

            "We thought you'd know."

**…~'*'~…**

A/N: I never knew I could make Silversmith look so cheesy! I know there's not much H/H, but keep reading, and it gets better…****


	3. The Hogwart's Champion

It was nearly the end of the day when Hermione and Ron were heading to their last class- Defence Against the Dark Arts. They hadn't seen Silversmith at all since their first strange encounter, and Hermione secretly wished she would never have to. Harry hadn't been at Charms class or Divination. Professor Trelawney held off her prediction of death gratefully until he returned. But lucky for Harry, he missed the palm readings, something nobody in the class could do.

            They pushed their way through the confused Hufflepuff first years with the other Gryffindors, hoping that Harry would show. But when they pulled open the door to the classroom, he didn't turn up. Only Silversmith occupied the room; you could barely look anywhere else. He was wearing shocking robes of neon orange today, and he was smoking a very long pipe that filled the class with dense smoke. He was sitting at the front of the room at his desk reading a very old and dusty book. He didn't look up when they entered.

            Ron and Hermione sat down with the other Gryffindors, staring at the unmoving figure of Silversmith in his chair at the front of the room. Everyone sat down, and he didn't move. Hermione looked at Ron, and he shrugged.

            "Mr. Potter ain't here yet, eh?" said the croaky voice of Silversmith, his head still pointed at the book he was reading, "Is he coming, Mr. Weasley?"

            "Er… I'm not sure, sir," said Ron quietly, looking across the room at the door for a shred of hope. Silversmith sighed, snapped the book closed, and looked at the class. At least Hermione thought he was; his eyes were all black, making it hard to tell who was under his stare.

            "Alright," he sighed, tucking his book away, and lifting another older looking book onto the desk, "Lets get started. Yes…" he started flipping through the pages of the book, and surprisingly and unexpectedly, he turned to the back of the enormous book, "The unforgivable curses."

            "Uh, sir?" said Dean uncertainly, "We went through those last year."

            Silversmith looked up at him, and blinked a few times as though he couldn't believe what Dean had just said.

            "M'boy, do you really think you know everything there is to know about the most deadly curses in all of history in just one day?" he asked Dean, "No, no, there is much more to learn about the mystery to these powerful curses. I believe I think this-"

            At that moment, the door creaked open, and Harry walked inside, carrying his books. Everyone stared at him, and Silversmith suddenly beamed.

            "Sorry sir, I was in the-"

            "Hospital wing," finished Silversmith, gesturing him to a seat, "Nothing to worry about, lad, no points taken off."

            Watching Silversmith in disbelief, Harry quickly sat down between Ron and Hermione, who saw that Lavender and Parvati were again thrown into a fit of giggles, staring at Harry.

            "Sorry," whispered Harry to her and Ron. Hermione stared at Harry. He looked like he was being forced Skele-grow ten times each day; he was tired and pale. 

            "As I was saying," started Silversmith, looking much more cheerful, "The Unforgivable curses."

            Harry raised his eyebrows at Hermione, who pressed her finger to her lips.

            "Now… who can tell me-" Silversmith looked around the room, and his beetle eyes landed on Harry, "Any Unforgivable curses used on you, Harry?"

            "Our old teacher, Professor Moody, used Harry to show us how we would react to the Imperius curse," said Seamus, looking as though he regretted saying anything in the first place, but Silversmith didn't do anything. He smiled, so Seamus added, "And he fought it."

            "Ahhh, very good, Mr. Potter. Thank you, Mr. Finnigun," said Silversmith, "And that leads to the killing curse, and you, obviously, had that done upon you as well. Remarkable scar you have there. Only one in history for as long known."

            The class was now watching Silversmith, almost daring him to tell them more.

            "And the Curcio curse, of course" he continued, causing everyone to stare at Harry, "Albus tells me you came into contact with that one also. Three times, I've heard."

            "Twice…" said a very annoyed Harry, sinking lower and lower into his chair as more and more people stared at him.

            "A gift from you-know-who, correct me if I'm wrong," said Silversmith. Harry moaned.

            "Always a hazard, those curses are," said Silversmith, taking his eyes off Harry for the first time, "The Imperius curse, allowing the wizard to make the victim do anything they desire. The killing curse kills you instantly, and Curcio hurts the victim like the dickens."

            Hermione had a very funny feeling in the pit of her stomach that moment. Harry had to go through that last year? She looked over at Harry, and her mouth went dry. He had his head in his arms again, and his elbows on the desk. He looked as though he wished he weren't in the classroom. She patted his arm; it made her shiver, yet again, she didn't know why.

            "Ahem… as I was saying," said Silversmith, obviously not wanting to upset Harry, "Perhaps we should start on the Ioparioqus curse instead."

            The class went on very quickly; Hermione wanted to get out as soon as she could. Silversmith droned on about the complex Ioparioqus curse, and how to block it. It seemed the time was slowing a few minutes before the end of class, and by that time, everyone was inching towards the door.

            At the end of the class, there was a great rush to the door to get out first; Harry, Ron and Hermione were the first to leave.

            "Argh, I can't believe that," snapped Ron angrily, as they hurried down the corridor to their common room.

            "He shouldn't do that. He told us all the stuff we already know about those curses," said Hermione bitterly, "I bet he's not as bad as Professor Moody-"

            But she stopped in the face of Harry's disappointment. 

            "I'm not really hungry", he told them, "I'm going to the common room."

            And without another word, he left up the marble staircase once they reached the entrance hall. Hermione stared after him.

            "He's not really with it, is he?" asked Ron, following her gaze.

            "N-no" said Hermione absentmindedly, tearing her eyes away from the staircase, "He isn't."

**…~'*'~…**

The first thing Hermione laid her eyes on when she entered the Great hall for breakfast a few days later was the bowler hat at the front of the hall overflowing with pieces of parchment. She didn't realize that Harry was being goggled at beside her and Ron, who were both transfixed at the front too. They sat down at the Gryffindor table beside Fred and George; they both looked sorry when Harry sat down.

            "Brand new season for Quidditch soon!" said Fred, trying to sound cheerful, but failing badly.

"And no Wood," said George pointedly, "I'm ready to bet he's kicking himself for leaving Hogwarts after we won the cup. We need a new captain."

"You haven't found one yet?" asked Hermione, taking a grateful gulp from her goblet.

"No," said Fred with a mouthful of toast, "It's not going to be someone energetic… I was getting into a habit of waking up at the crack of dawn when Wood was around."

George nodded in agreement.

"He was great and all, but he's the only one on the team who would be crazy enough to wake up at four in the morning."

After a few helpings of eggs and toast, Dumbledore stood up from the staff table, and smiled at them all. The hall went silent almost at once.

"Now," he started, his blue eyes twinkling in the light coming from the open windows high above them, "It has been a week for you to enter your vote into the hat here, and I believe a week is enough. As soon as that student has been chosen, we will begin planning the visit to Dryconderoga at once, and we will leave in as little as a few days. I know we are on a tight schedule, but we have only been informed about this suddenly."

With a wave of his wand and the gasp of the students, the bowler hat landed gently into Dumbledore's outstretched hand. He placed the hat on the table in front of him, and waved his wand over the hat's brim. Hermione watched, aghast, as the bits of parchment that were once in the hat zoomed straight up his wand. A moment later, the hat was completely empty, and Dumbledore's wand was now emitting a strange pasty colour. The his wand begin to vibrate violently, and before Hermione knew what was happening, a piece of parchment flew out of Dumbledore's wand, and into his hand. Ron and Harry looked bewildered.

The hall was very quite; nobody dared to make a sound. Dumbledore looked at the parchment, and smiled.

"Mr. Malfoy," he called, "One hundred and sixteen votes."

Hermione looked around at the Slytherin table, and saw a very disgusting sight. Slytherins were pounding on Malfoy's back with congratulations. It looked as though every Slytherin voted for him. But before they could get to excited, another piece of parchment flew out of Dumbledore's wand.

"Terry Boot," he announced, after taking a quick look at the parchment, "Sixty four votes."

Every Hufflepuff looked over at Boot, who sank into his seat looking as though he didn't want to be voted for. The Slytherins looked very smug now. Another parchment landed in Dumbledore outstretched hand.

"Cho Chang," he said, "One hundred and ninety-four votes."

Hands rained down on Cho's back, who looked very taken aback while the Slytherins smiles faded. Ron looked over at Hermione, looking very serious. 

"One person from each house," he said, so Harry couldn't hear beside him, "Gryffindor should be next."

The Hall went deadly quiet and the only noise that occupied the room was the uneven gasps of Neville, who was sitting a few seats away from Hermione. Finally, the last piece of parchment blossomed from Dumbledore's wand. He took a look at it, and smiled, the twinkle in his eyes brighter than they had seen it.

"Harry Potter," he said voice raised, "Eight hundred and ninety-four votes."

Hermione's mouth fell open. Fred and George were right. Every head turned to Harry, who looked as though he was hit with the stunning charm; his eyes were staring ahead of him and his face was pale white. Then, when he seemed to regain control, he turned his head to look up at Dumbledore, who smiled.

"Very overwhelming," he said, "Now, we will leave for Dryconderoga in two days at twelve'o'clook in the afternoon. You, of course, need to pack your trucks and luggage for the trip," he paused, "I wish all of you to have a respectable temper in the next few days."

And he sat back down. Nothing was said for a few minutes. The entire hall was watching Harry with respectful eyes. Hermione had an awful thought that he was feeling bad for himself. 

"I don't think I can do it," he whispered under his breath so only she and Ron could hear, "I can't"

Hermione stared at him apologetically, and patted his arm. Ron looked past her at Harry.

"Sure you can, Harry," he said "You have the entire school in it with you… except the Slytherins, the stupid gits."

"If you think you can go through with it Harry, go ahead," said Hermione, "And if you don't think you can, nobody will blame you."

"Except for the Slytherins," said Ron again in a hated voice. At that time, Fred and George joined the conversation.

"There is some prise money for whoever wins though," said George. Fred nodded in agreement.

"Whoever wins the tournament earns the money for their school," he said, "It's more money than you could ever count."

Harry said nothing. He merely stared at the table, biting his lip and thinking hard. Hermione shivered again.

"I going to write to Sirius," he finally said quietly so only Hermione and Ron could hear, "And tell him I'm going."

**…~'*'~…**

A/N: All righty, a tiny bit of fluff at the end. It gets fluffier (is that even a word?)


	4. Packing

The next few days went by very quickly, like time was flying by just because of the tournament that was being held in a few days. The school had a very cheery atmosphere, and Hermione wondered if it was because of the tournament, or if they were positive Harry would win if he participated. Classes were on the regular schedule, but a day before everyone left, that all changed; classes were only a half an hour long. Snape seemed particularly hasty and rabid in potions class. He had taken off fifty points from Gryffindor, for Neville had spilled water down his front in Potions class. Harry, however, was trying his best to sound happier. Hermione wasn't fooled.

The school was not being cleaned as well; Hermione figured Flich didn't care as everyone was leaving in only a day. The pieces of wood from a bookcase Peeves decided to crash over Professor McGonagall's classroom was still littering the charms corridor, and Neville had already tripped on the bigger pieces of wood. Luckily, Harry and Ron were not to far behind, and seized him under the arms before he had landed on the sharp and pointy nails. When they had finished their feast that night, their plates were not cleaned immediately. They sat there a while, and disappeared, with the food still on them.

Nearly everyone seemed to be distracted and curious by one question: how were they going to Dryconderoga and where would they stay for the nights? This topic came up at Divination at the last class, and apparently, Professor Trelawney wasn't pleased. She predicted they would sleep in coffins. Nobody took this seriously, except for Neville, who was later on shaking all through the rest of his classes. 

"I bet we'll get there by Dragon," said Ron wildly as he, Harry and Hermione left the Great Hall doors and down the slopping hill to the edge of the Forbidden forest where Hagrid's hut stood.

"Dunno," said Harry, "I bet any Muggle would see that coming."

"Oh, Ron, grow a brain," said Hermione, and smiled slightly to see Harry smirking at her, "We would never be allowed to go near a dragon!"

"Harry did!"

"That was different."

The argument seemed to last forever until Harry had started to walk ahead of them and reached Hagrid's cabin first. Before he could knock a third time, the door swung open, and Hagrid's hairy face popped through, his beady black eyes glinting in greeting.

"I was wonderin' when you'd come'n see me," he said, opening the door widely. At once, Fang the boarhound leaped off his enormous bed in the corner of the one room cabin, and lunched at Ron. Hagrid, however, was watching Harry, a great friendly smile shinning under his lengths of tangled hair. Harry stared back.

"You still look like yer father," he said proudly, before clapping a huge hand onto Harry's shoulder. Harry grinned weakly.

"Dumbledore said the same thing," he said simply. Hagrid had led them to a table where Harry, Hermione, and with much difficulty, Ron, wringing his robes free of drool, sat down.

"Never known Dumbledore ter lie," said Hagrid as his filled his kettle with water from a large pitcher, "He's tellin' the truth, yeh know." 

Hermione watched Harry stare at the wooden table, his bright green eyes twinkling in the firelight as Hagrid put his kettle over the flames. Hagrid shuffled over across the room, and came back with a plate of rock cakes.

"Heard yer in fer another tournament, Harry," he said kindly, setting the plate onto the table, "The Tournament of Demontarity, is it?"

"Yeah," said Harry, raising his head, "Tomorrow."

"Heard who yer goin' against?" asked Hagrid. Harry shook his head.

"I meet them at Dryconderoga," he said, "Hope their someone bad."

Hermione looked at Ron, who helplessly stared back. His robes were soaking up more drool from Fang; he had his head on Ron's knee.

"How are the Flubber worms?" he asked, obvious that he wanted to change the subject. Hagrid, however, didn't notice. He looked as if he had been meaning to tell them after he forgot.

"Their thrivin'," he said, pouring them each a cup of tea, "Jus' gave em' some lettuce. Can't give em to much, I'll tell yeh!"

"Great," said Ron. Hagrid didn't notice the sarcasm.

"Yeah," he said gruffly, "Their not explodin' any more. I was going the teach yeh another lesson on how to keep em' as a pet, but I'm leavin' tomorrow."

"Your coming to Dryconderoga too?" asked Harry suddenly. Hagrid beamed.

"Yeah, I can't miss Harry, mind yeh," he said. After that, Harry smiled like he hadn't for days. He seems a lot more cheerful after that.

Harry, Ron and Hermione left Hagrid's cabin very late with pockets full of rock cakes they were to polite to refuse, and high hopes as Harry defiantly had a rapid change of personality. Hagrid immediately started packing his things into an enormous leather suitcase that had looked like it had been chewed up and spit out after they had left. 

One Harry, Ron and Hermione reached the castle, they retreated up the marble staircases at once after they bid each other good night. Hermione stumbled off to her dormitory, now realizing how incredibly tired she was, and without another look at Lavender, Parvati or Ginny, she changed into her night gown, and slumped into her four-poster for a nights sleep.

**…~'*'~…**

**A/N:** Sorry it's so short… It won't ever happen again. Promise! (Har de har har!) Oh, and Harry does NOT have contact lenses. I try to avoid stories that have Harry wearing contact lenses (It sounds so weird) The answer how and why Harry has no need for glasses is in the future's chapters (one clue: Sirius plays a role in Harry's changes) I'm trying to make it not so boring, but if it is, think about this: wait till you hear how they get to Dryconderoga…


	5. Dryconderoga

The next day, Hermione woke up to a very clear morning. The sun was shinning and there were only a few cotton-white clouds etched across the blue sky. Her dormitory was very busy and crowded when she started to pack her things into her trunk. Lavender and Parvati apparently tried to pack everything into their trunk and duffle bag. Ginny had already finished and she left for the Great hall for breakfast. Hermione followed, cradling the purring Crookshanks in her arms. Harry and Ron were sitting at the Gryffindor house table with Dean, Seamus, Fred and George. Harry had Hedwig sitting on his arm as he had his quill out, writing as though he did not want to be spotted. Ron was looking over his shoulder at what he was writing.

Hermione approached them, and let Crookshanks down onto the table in front of Harry just as the twins told a joke making Dean and Seamus roar with laughter.

"What is he doing here?" asked Ron in disgust, spotting Crookshanks, who narrowed its beady eyes at him, "You better watch out, Harry, or Hedwig might be that flee-bitten cat's breakfast."

"Oh, don't" said Hermione, "Crookshanks doesn't mean to bug anyone."

"Yeah, Ron," said Harry, finally looking up from what he was writing on, "I saw that flee-bitten cat eat spiders for you."

Ron grinned, perhaps because he was pleased to see Harry in such a good mood when they would be leaving in less than an hour. Hermione couldn't help but grin too.

"What are you writing?" she asked Harry, sitting down next to him. He put down his quill, and passed her the role of parchment he had been writing on:

_Snuffles,_

_   I hope this reaches you before you go anywhere. You asked me to keep you undated on what was happening here, and I bet this is going to sound pretty much like last year's letters. I'm in another tournament called the Tournament of Demontarity and it's being held at a school I (not even Hermione) have never heard of. Have you ever heard of Dryconderoga? Everyone at Hogwarts is leaving today for Dryconderoga this time to watch me make a fool of myself in front of two other schools. The other school is Nockdernia, and I haven't heard of that one either._

_                                                                                                                                                                                                            -Harry_

_ P.s- Have you ever heard of someone named Silversmith? He's our new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher. He's really weird and he made a fool out of me the other week in class saying Voldemort used all those stupid unforgivable curses on me._

"Stupid unforgivable curses?" asked Hermione, handing the letter back to him, "They didn't seem stupid last year when Moody set the Imperius curse on you."

"Yes they were," said Harry, "They were when he set them on me. He wasn't Moody anyways."

"And he tried to murder you after you got out the maze," muttered Hermione quietly. 

"Better him than Voldemort, isn't it?"

Hermione looked terrified at the very idea. That and she cringed when he had said you-know-who's real name. Before she could say anymore, Harry stood up with Hedwig still on his arm, and headed towards the nearest window. He tied Sirius's letter to Hegwig's leg, let the owl nip his ear in a affectionate way, and Hedwig stretched out her great wings to take off through the open window high above them. Ron, apparently, had heard what Harry had said before.

"Imagine what would happen if _Vicky_ got the Imperius curse set on him!" he said, purposely changing the subject, "I'd bet if you tell him to jump off a cliff, he'd do it!"

Ron was howling with loud laughter now, attracting the attention of several first years strolling towards the portrait. Hermione went red in the face.

"I don't like him anymore, Ron, so stop!" she yelled, not aware Harry groaned at what looked like another fight against her and Ron, "And you know it!"

"Really?" Ron asked, grinning stupidly, "I thought you fancied him."

Hermione bit her lip, her face burning.

"I never fancied Victor…um…Krum!" she shrieked, "You haven't got a clue who I fancy!"

Hermione drew a great, heaving sigh as though this settled the matter. She turned to Harry, who was watching her and Ron with his arms folded and his eyes narrowed to slits. She tried to hide the fact that her face flushed magenta. Ron gasped.

"I do _now_," he said triumphantly, looking from her to Harry. Hermione frowned, letting her hands fall limply to her sides. Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Hey, Isn't that Fleur?" he gasped suddenly, pointing across the common room. Ron took an excited leap, and screamed.

"Where?" he said wildly, his wide and uneasy eyes darting around the room. Harry sneered. 

"Sorry," he said wickedly, "It must have been one of the Veela, spying on you again."

Hermione couldn't help but smile as it was Ron's turn to blush. Even the few Gryffindors who were listening snickered.

"Funny, Harry," said Ron, grinning, "You're a real card."

But as he finished, the rest of the Gryffindors were coming down the spiral staircases, looking eager and excited. They poured out of the common room through the portrait, a few waving at Harry as they passed.

"I think we have to go now," said Ron, grinning wider than before, "We better get going."

"Isn't Dumbledore going to put you into a special group or something?" Hermione asked Harry as they and Ron joined the Gryffindors thronging into the Great Hall.

"I dunno," said Harry, looking around the other heads that were in front of him, "I'm not going anywhere."

"I reckon we'll get there the old fashioned way," groaned Ron beside Hermione, "On the train."

"I don't think so," said Harry, as they climbed down the marble staircase, "Wouldn't it be odd to have train tracks to wherever where going just for a month? It's not worth it."

This excited Ron even more. It was only common sense, which, thought Hermione hysterically, Ron had nothing of. It looked like they were the last to leave the castle, and the Gryffindors in front of them who had already passed through the oak doors, sounded amazed. And when Harry, Ron and Hermione passed through the doors, they could see why.

The same carriages that every Hogwarts student arrived in at the beginning of the year were in front of them, linked together by nothing. There were hundreds of them, all floating in mid air on the lawn in front of the castle, most of them occupied with excited students. But this wasn't what amazed Hermione. The carriages were no longer pulled by invisible horses, but something almost twice as tall as the castle itself- an enormous, black, fully-grown dragon. On it's back was Hagrid, looking as though he was having the time of his life, with the chains in his hands that wrapped around the Dragon's front.

"Whoa," said Ron, flabbergast, as he watched the scaly dragon thrash its head, fire sprouting out of it's nostrils, "I _told_ you we could get there by dragon! Score one for me…"

Hermione wasn't listening. She was watching the enormous dragon pound it's feet into the ground, making huge scratch marks in the grass from its claws, and she felt the ground beneath her feet shake tremendously.

"It looks a lot bigger close up, doesn't it?" she said quietly, unaware her mouth was still hanging open in awe. Harry didn't have the same reaction. He _did_ have to get around a dragon before. They walked down the slopping lawn to where Professor McGonagall was harassing Neville, who had his cloak on backwards, and Lee Jordan who tried to sneak his enormous spider along with him. She looked particularly panicky about their arrival, just like last year when Durmstrang and Beaux Batons arrived at Hogwarts.

What it looked like was all the teachers had the first five carriages closer to the Hungarian Horntail, and the students behind them. Harry, Ron and Hermione climbed into an empty carriage while Neville, Dean and Seamus climbed into another behind them. Fred, George, and once Professor McGonagall had climbed into a carriage with Snape, Dumbledore and Flitwick, Lee Jordan joined the twins, and waved at them from a carriage in front of them. Only a few more teachers were coming down the hill now: Professor Trelawny, Professor Sprout and- Silversmith.

"Why does he have to come," groaned Harry sitting beside Ron and across from Hermione, "Can't he stay here and make a fool out of someone else?"

"It seems everyone's going, doesn't it?" said Hermione, looking out the window at the last of the Ravenclaws joining everyone else in the carriages, "Everyone's nearly on."

A small explosion of excitement let off in her stomach, possibly out of nerves. And at that moment, their carriage shot forwards, almost knocking them out of their seats. Hermione leaned out the window, watching the castle float out of view. Then, she heard pathetic screams of horror coming from the carriage behind them; it became obvious Neville was afraid of heights. Harry stuck his head out the opposite window to see what was wrong. 

"Neville, don't look down!" shouted Ron, screwing up his face to stop laughing. Dean and Seamus were yelling too, trying to get Neville to stay calm. Ron was howling now, watching the carriage behind them shake and shudder.

Most of the time, Hermione sat gazing out the window at the Hungarian Horntail that was pulling all the carriages at the front. It's wings slowly propelling up and down, making a loud rushing sound that carried through all the carriages. It was quite pleasant once you got over the shock of seeing a Hungarian Horntail. Harry was on the same side as her, he too looking out at the surroundings. Ron was going on about something Hermione couldn't hear, and she had her doubts if it was anything but Quidditch.

"Wonder how far Dryconderoga is, eh Harry? Eh?" he asked excited, and Harry smiled. Ron seemed more excited than Harry was, and it was then when Hermione realized that was easy. Harry was surely depressed or even frightened; he was chosen for the school champion two times in a row, after all. But when she looked over at Harry, he didn't look too worried. He was merely staring out the window at the dragon ahead of them, elbows on the sill and it seemed as though his eyelids were slowly shutting.

After what seemed like five hours later, the sky was quickly turning into a deep purple with stars plastered across the sky. Now, below them, was only the same dense forest they had been flying over the last hour. Ron had fallen asleep and now had his head on the seat he was sitting on. He kept snoring and occasionally making mumbling sounds as if he were talking in his sleep. As for Harry, he didn't move from his spot at the window to the right of Hermione. He had his arms folded on the window and his head buried in his robes, but Hermione couldn't tell if he was awake or asleep. He shifted his weight from side to side a few times, but never looked up.

Hermione sat watching him with misty eyes for a few minutes before looking through her bag and taking out a book: _Transfiguration for the Advanced_. She was careful when Ron ever moved or fidgeted; she had a sickening feeling that if he ever saw her with this book, she knew she'd never hear the end of it. 

She focused her attention to her book, blocking out the roaring from the Hungarian Horntail at the front of the carriages. She read a few lines and became deeply immersed between the pages:

_…Usaul the Unusual was known for Transfiguring unusual magical things with Muggle contraptions, like telephones and television sets. Many people believed Usaul had a knack for inventions. That was a matter of speaking. Usaul combined the use of a toaster with the looks of a turtle. This did not turn out the way he had hoped for when he tried to slip anything into the turtle's shell, Usual would end up with second degree burns because the turtle could breath fire. Usaul was charged a five hundred-galleon fine from the Ministry of Magic. Serves him right…_

Hermione laughed very quietly, hoping not to attract attention. It hardly mattered. One particularly loud screech from the dragon at the front made her jump, and to her horror, Ron and Harry stirred. Without hesitation, she tucked her book away in her bag before Ron looked up tiredly. Hermione pretended she was sleeping herself.

"Hey," she said, looking down to the ground, rubbing her eyes, "Look! Down there!"

Leaning over, Hermione could just see a rather large parliament-like palace with lots of towers and turrets just below them through the dark. Dryconderoga was at the edge of a steep cliff with a roaring sea around it. It was completely surrounded in forest. This had to be Dryconderoga. It was the first building they came across in hours.

"The front," said Harry, pointing at the ground, "D'you think they are the students?"

Hermione hadn't realized this. About a hundred people in cloaks were crowded around at the front of the palace, some reaching as far as the forest. They were unmoving and it became apparent they were watching them in the sky in amazement.

"Dunno," said Ron, eyes wide. At that moment, the dragon let out a shrill, ear-piercing roar, and Hermione watched, as though in slow motion, each carriage point down towards the ground, following the Dragon. They started floating towards the ground. Hermione looked behind her, and grinned. Seamus, Dean and a reluctant Neville were staring down at the ground, and gave a holler of excitement.

As all Harry, Ron and Hermione were staring out the windows, Dryconderoga and the people on the lawn drew closer, and soon enough, they jumped when they hit solid ground. Hermione looked around and saw that they had landed on the beautiful green lawn in front of the palace a ways off from the people outside of the palace. Her stomach gave an excited jolt.

At once, the front carriages that held the professors emptied, and with much hesitation, the whole of Hogwarts students did the same.

"Oh, this is going to be fun!" squealed Hermione as she followed Ron out of the carriage, "New school, new students-"

"-new library," interrupted Ron, smirking as Harry climbed out after Hermione. She glared at him and furiously opened her mouth to tell him off until Harry stepped in between them.

"Don't start," he muttered involuntarily, "I'm not going to let you act they way you do at Hogwarts."

He couldn't say much more as the swarming crowd of Hogwarts students that had climbed out of the carriages pressed in on them and pushed them forwards.

"Don't- hey, watch it!" barked Ron enraged and aimed a blow at a Ravenclaw who had been pushing him until Harry dragged him away by the ruff of his shabby robes. They marched up the slopping lawn and approached the students encircled around from the entrance of the school with the teachers in the lead. Hermione stared at the students watching them in interest and whispering in unison. They each wore robes of a dark burgundy brown and on the chest of each student was a patch with their school's emblem of two snakes curled around a silver sword. Hermione caught Harry's eye, and they raised their eyebrows.

The Dryconderoga students at the front where mainly staring at Dumbledore with large eyes, who was at the front of the long line. The Hogwarts students came to a halt when Dumbledore stopped in front of a young wizard at the doors of the palace.

"Professor Slaton Siamoen, how are you, my dear comrade?" said Dumbledore merrily, extending his hand to the wizard who just as happily shook. Hermione thought this wizard looked a bit of an over-done look about him. He had shoulder length blond hair and perfect teeth that shinned brilliantly in small beams of light coming from the torches on the pillars. He wore bright, green robes that clashed badly with the palace, and the longest fingernails she had ever seen. His fingers were toped off with several silver rings. 

"Albus Dumbledore, we meet again," the wizard said in a wheezy voice like he hadn't used it for days, "Brought your champion?"

"Yes, I did indeed," replied Dumbledore, stroking his beard, "Has Kohl arrived yet, if you don't mind me asking."

Siamoen gave out an excited laugh, and his smile grew.

"Yes, I do believe so," he said dryly after he composed himself, "They are waiting in the hall. They arrived thirty minutes ago."

Ron snorted, fighting the urge to break down and laugh. Hermione impatiently punched him in the ribs, and he doubled over, grinning.

"Yes, so sorry, Slaton, we are a bit late," said Dumbledore in a mid sigh, and Siamoen laughed again, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

"No, no, dear me, Albus, It's quite alright," he said, "Come inside and sit your students down. Warm yourselves up! It's getting quite cold."

Dumbledore nodded, and Siamoen led the way through the giant double doors. Slowly, Harry, Ron and Hermione started shuffling forwards with the crowd. The long line of Dryconderoga students followed behind the stragglers at the back.

"They look kind of…er…obedient, don't they," said Harry inaudibly, so only Ron and Hermione could hear him, "Think how many rules they could have here."

"I don't want to," laughed Ron, making a face, "Oh no! What if they have a 'no library time at three in the morning' rule?"

Hermione glared at him, and stuck her nose in the air. Harry's shoulders fell as he exhaled noisily. It was just like Ron wouldn't shut up, and they had to put up with it for nearly two months.

They walked through the doors into a vaguely lit entrance hall. Hermione almost thought she were back at the Quidditch championships she went to last year; there was green everywhere. To her far right was an enormous fireplace with green flames that was the only light that was in the hall. Towering above them were stained glass windows with green drapery on the sill, and over the doorways that evidently led to altered parts of the school. There were two sculptures of what looked like Basilisks at the doorways where they were going through. Hermione thought she went momentarily blind or she had some kind of green layer over her eye.

"What is with this place?" said Ron, watching the stone Basilisk with terrified eyes, "Creepy."

Hermione turned red, and she was just about to snap.

"Ron, don't make fun of other cultures!" she hissed, "There are other ways people decorate! Honestly, haven't you read _Hogwarts, a History_?"

"Why do you even bother to ask, Hermione," said Harry tonelessly, shaking his head. Hermione looked away, blushing slightly. She pretended to become interested in the Great Hall they were walking into. She sighed in relief. It was almost just like the one at Hogwarts, except everything was covered with green hangings, and there were only three long tables that were occupied with students. The table on Hermione's far left was holding the other school's students, which must have been Nockdernia. Hermione smiled. In a way, they looked very odd. Each person wore a different colour of robes, either neon green, orange or even pink. Ron ruptured with mirth, and he wasn't the only one. Harry broke up too, along with Lee Jordan, Dean and Seamus. 

"Shut up," said Hermione furiously, although she was smirking.

"All right, you Hogwarts chaps, find a seat, and rest your tuff," called Siamoen merrily over the sea of heads. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat at the only vacant table, which was in the middle. They marched down the row, and sat near the middle, while the others sat down from them. The Dryconderoga students filed along the row, and sat at a different table. Hermione noticed they and the Nockdernia students were watching them in interest.

"They don't look very nice, do they," said Hermione softly to Harry on her right, "They don't talk much."

"Yeah, that's good," he said just as quiet, "Just as long as they don't make badges that say 'Potter stinks' on them, I'm happy."

Hermione smiled brightly, regardless of everything, but then spun around. Lights came on at the front, and they focused on a small stage she hadn't seen before. Siamoen climbed up, stood in the middle, and raised his hands for silence. The hall went dead quiet.

"Welcome to Dryconderoga, my fellow Hogwarts and Nockdernia students and staff," he started, beaming at the crowd, "You may call me Professor Siamoen, for those of you who do not know me. I am the current headmaster of Dryconderoga," he paused, and raised a hand, "Lets give a welcome to Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts."

Hermione looked around at where Siamoen was pointing, and saw Dumbledore stand up from a round table at the front. Beside him sat McGonagall and to Hermione's disgust, Silversmith. Other professors she didn't know sat opposite of Dumbledore. The hall burst into applause, the Hogwarts table louder than the rest. He smiled, nodded, and sat back down. Siamoen extended a hand over to the longer side of the table.

"And Professor Kohl, headmistress of Nockdernia," he announced. Kohl stood up from her seat, and waved her hand in a mysterious fashion. Hermione was surprised. She looked somewhat like Trelawny, rings, bangles, and all. She had waist-long white hair tied back with a purple sash, and loop earrings that just grazed her shoulder. She wore a putrid colour orange dress robes with another sash tied around her waist, and there was a Peacock feather sticking out of her head shall. She looked very proper, but amazingly kind. With one last wave of her hand at the applause she received, she sat back down at the staff table.

"And now, we shall met each school's champions."

**…~'*'~…**

A/N: Do you realize how happy you people are making me, writing so many awesome reviews? Thank you _SOOOOO_ much! I had to cut down my story so I could post another chapter because so many people wanted me to hurry. And guess what? I made up all those new names! Even the Usaul the Unusual part! (I'm so proud! BAWWWWW!!) I'm not sure if they're from somewhere, but if they are, they belong to the people who made them. Hermione even gets a bit jealous over a certain new person who comes into the next chapter. The next chapter will come quicker than this one. I promise. Thank you! ^_^;****


	6. The Champions

"When I call each champion, they will come up here, meet me, and the other champions," Siamoen spook like it was a great privilege, "Don't you fret! You may return to your current seat afterwards, dear champions! Now… first off, my school's champion. Tisroc Hwin, will you please step up here?"

            A tall boy with long, shoulder-length blonde hair stood up from the Dryconderoga table. He wore robes of a dark burgundy brown too, like the other Dryconderoga students. His table made a great amount of noise, making to cheer him up. He smiled rather nervously at his friends, and started down the row, almost tripping on his robes. Silversmith watched him in pride as he approached, and came to a halt at the front of the stage. Hwin, shivering noticeably from head to foot, scanned the Hogwarts and Nockdernia tables expectantly.

            "Wonderful, Tisroc!" squealed Siamoen in excitement, clapping a hand on Hwin's shoulder, "And now, Nockdernia's school champion, the lovely Marindernia Cuapauil."

            Hermione looked around, and saw a girl rise from the Nockdernia table. She had long, silver hair and pink robes, unlike the other Nockdernia's. Hermione looked over at Ron, and saw that he was set into a trance, watching her. She grumbled. Marindernia almost floated to the stage, took Hwin's hand, shook it, and stood next to him. He hadn't noticed she touched him. As Marindernia searched the Hogwarts table, Hermione noticed another thing- her eyes were purple.

            "Ah, yes, the beautiful Marindernia," said Siamoen happily, seizing her hand, and kissing it, "I've heard a lot about you," he resumed his place at the front of the stage, "Which brings us to the last champion, from Hogwarts. Please welcome Harry Potter."

            The hall was then filled with the cheers and hollers from the Hogwarts table, mainly from the Gryffindors around them. The Nockdernia and Dryconderoga tables were silent, and every head was turned to them. Harry looked temporarily frozen.

            "Come on, Harry!" urged Hermione, nudging him slightly, "Go on!"

            He snapped back into reality, and looked around him. Ron poked him hard in the ribs, a sinister smile on his face. Harry stood up reluctantly, glaring at Ron and rubbing his side. He took one last look at them, and started down the row to the stage. Every eye was on him, watching in interest and awe as he quickly walked up the rows. Marindernia and Hwin stared at him as he approached, mouths hanging open.

            "Welcome, Harry Potter, to Dryconderoga," said Siamoen enthusiastically, ringing Harry's hand, "So glad you could come."

            Harry shook Hwin's hand, trying his best to ignore the staring at his forehead, and did the same to Marindernia. Hermione flushed, and looked away when she noticed what she was doing. Then, Harry stood next to her, watching all the faces pointed in his direction.

            "Here you have it! Out three champions!" cried Siamoen, gesturing to the front of the stage, "These brave souls will participate in three skill testing tasks. One will test strength. Another will test agility, and the last, power," he scanned the now silent crowd with his eyes, "Tisroc, Marinderia, and Harry will require respect and gratitude from their schools. If and when one of them shall win, they will receive fifty thousand galleons for their school."

            Hermione glanced over at Ron, and he looked back. There was no way Harry was going to believe it- fifty thousand galleons for the champion. That wasn't going to happen. Slytherin were sure to give Harry a hard time.

            "And now," announced Siamoen, "You will have your champions back. Don't feel to worried, now!"

            Harry, Hwin, and Marindernia stumbled off the stage, and headed back to their seats, Harry having the hardest time. He concentrated of his seat rather than the people staring at him as he walked by the Nockdernia and Dryconderoga tables. He threw himself into his seat between Ron and Hermione, looking around at Fred, who were making a thumbs-up sign in his direction, and George, pretending to sob into his robes. He laughed weakly, and Hermione glowed.       

            "So," she said, "What next?"

            "Dunno," he mumbled, looking around at the front, earnestly avoided the eyes in his direction. Siamoen threw his arms into the air, and shouted-

            "Now, for the delectable feast!"

            Ron jumped up, as though struck by a sudden thought.

            "Finally," he groaned, peering expectantly in front of him, "I'm starving!"

            Hermione looked in front of her too. Where there was once nothing but green tablecloth was suddenly a silver plate, fork, knife, and a goblet. The next moment, the far doors near the staff table banged open, and what Hermione saw nearly made her fall back onto the ground.

            Platters after platters of food game zooming into the hall in mid air. They each settled onto the staff and student tables, and after that, they sat silent.

            "Whoa," gasped Ron, as a tray of steak and kidney pie landed in front of him, "What _is_ this, invisible house elves?"

 After dozens of platters landed onto the tables, the doors closed, and everything was quite silent again.

            "Is it okay to eat?" said Dean in a startled voice across from Hermione, poking at a tray of baked potatoes. At the Dryconderoga table, they were already eating. Hermione could hear the clings of their goblets hitting their plates. Harry, however, eagerly forked a chop, and stuffed it into his mouth.

            "It's o-ay," he said in a mouth full, and at once, Ron gave out a triumphant 'ha', and pilled everything onto his plate along with everyone else at the table. Hermione did the same. There was fish, stuffing, Yorkshire pudding, and great heaving platters of turkey, roast beef, and curry sauce. Before Hermione was about to help herself to a bowl of baby carrots, Fred had taken the liberty to eat them first. Before he had a chance to stuff one into his mouth, what looked like a small rip opened where the steam would have been. Then the carrot actually spoke- "Keep your hands off me, scruffy! I'll bite _your_ head off!"

            Harry and Ron were overcome with such a fit of laughter that they nearly toppled off their seats and Ron was spraying the table with mashed potatoes. Everyone stared at them as though worried for their sanity. Hermione saw Marindernia look over the heads of people to watch Harry from her table. She almost smiled, hair shining, and Hermione glowered. She didn't speck for the rest of their meal.

            Once they had finished, the platters, goblets and everything else was lifted from the table as though with invisible strings, and they streamed down the tables and through the open door in which they came from. Ron watched with wide eyes.

            "Your attention please," Siamoen spoke up, standing up from the staff table, "Both Nockdernia and Hogwarts  students will spend their nights there, in the castle," a rush of whispers coursed through the hall, "In the temporary sleeping dormitories for you all. Hogwarts to the east of the castle and Nockdernia to the south. There are boys and girls dorms, don't worry, and my prefects will lead you to them. Off you go now!"

            There was the sound of hundreds chairs scrapping the stone floor and Harry, Ron and Hermione followed the stream of Hogwarts students leave through the east door. They passed the giant door and into a wide corridor, it too lined with green drapery. 

            "That was _so_ good," sighed Ron happily, patting his stomach in a mock manner, "I could just sleep like a baby now."

            It was then when Hermione realized how tired she was; her legs felt like lead and it took great effort to heave them up the marble staircase that lead to the upper floors. They passed corridors after corridors with the same green curtains draped over the doorways of what looked like the classrooms, lining the halls. Portraits of warlocks and mocks and witches with shawls over their faces whispered behind their hands, peering eagerly and them as they marched by. They went up at least five stone staircases and through seven different rooms until the pack of Hogwarts students finally came to a halt. They were in an enormous circular room, with plenty of armchairs and desks. All four Hogwarts house flags were hanging high up above a crackling fire.  Somewhere up ahead, a voice floated over them-

            "The boys dorms are to the left, and the girls, the right. Each house gets your own dorm. The room you are standing in will be the place where you spend your free time. Your feasts will be in the grand hall with the other two schools. If you need help to find anything or if you're lost, ask one of the portrait people. They will gladly help you, only, stay away from the Hags. They drink a little to much Butterbeer…"

            Then, the boys and girls split up and preceded in different ways down a different corridor. Hermione said goodbye to Harry and Ron, and followed Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown. They came to a small, circular room with very little light coming in from the tiny windows above. Hermione's trunk was sitting at the foot of one of several four posters, so she walked over to it, and pulled out her pyjamas. 

            "Did you see that Tisroc guy?," said Lavender across the room. 

            "Yeah, he's ever so handsome! Harry'll have such a time competing against him!" cried Parvati. Hermione drew the hangings around her four-poster, and climbed into bed, rather to drown their voices.

            "I don't know. Harry's changed, in looks," said Lavender, and they exploded into fits of giggles, "Don't you think so, Hermione?"

Hermione bit her lip, not saying a word. Yes, she thought, blushing, he has changed…

**…~'*'~…**

A/N: I told you this chapter would be coming out sooner than the last one. I really hope your enjoying this story! It takes a lot to write them, getting writers block and all. But listen… I need some ideas for two of the tasks (the power and agility. I've got an idea for strength! Just you wait! It'll be AWESOME!) so, if you have an idea _email_ me at harrys_gurl@hotmail.com *email changed to Lady_darkshine@hotmail.com! Please don't write it in the reviews! It would take up too much room, and I simply don't want anyone to know about the tasks in the future chapters! Oh, and I made up- with much difficulty- Marindenia Cuapauil and Tisroc Hwin's name.****


	7. Grudges

The next morning, Hermione had woken up at the same time everyone else was. She eagerly slipped on her jeans, sweater, and Hogwarts robes, hoping to be first to leave the dorm. She left the sunlight-drenched dorm at ten'o'clock, and saw Harry waiting in the Hogwarts resting area, polishing his Firebolt with the polish Hermione recognized as the polish she herself had given to him as a birthday gift two years ago. He smiled at her as she sat down on one of the many squashy chairs, warming her down to her toes.

            "Where's Ron?" she asked him, cursing herself for sounding so lame, "He isn't sleeping still, is he?"

            "Wow, I thought you hated Divination, Hermione," he said sarcastically, "'cause you just predicted what Ron was doing _at this very moment_!"

            He was smiling at her in a way a brother would to a sister. Hermione couldn't help but smile back, even though she voiced her anger.

            "I swear," she said, her face twisting into a strange, lopsided frown, "He could sleep during a World Champion Quidditch match!"

            "Whoa," gasped Harry, "Lets not go _that_ far!"

            Hermione giggled, and lightly punched his shoulder, with him looking at her like she grew an extra head.

            "What's up with you today?" she asked him lightly, "Yesterday you were a lump."

            "Just happy, I guess," he replied, as he finished his polishing. He wrapped the rag he was using around the jar of polish and set it beside him, "And I couldn't hear Ron snore as much this time. He sounds like a bloody foghorn…"

            He sat at the edge of the seat, holding his Firebolt at arms length in front of him and stared at it adoringly.

            "Did you polish it enough?" Hermione asked menacingly, "I think you could slip off if you fly it."

            "I can _see_ myself in it," he said tearfully, "I look _strange_…"

            "That's because you are strange, Harry," said Ron sleepily, climbing down from the boys dorms in his Hogwarts robes, "And what's the deal not waking me up, man?"   

            "You give him grief if you wake him up, and now you're giving him grief for not waking him up?" said Hermione, "_Shame_!"

             "Shut up, you," said Ron, but he was grinning, "And I'm hungry. Lets go to the hall for some grub."

            They set off down the twisted corridors to the Grand Hall. Approaching the giant doors with the sound of many droning voices behind it. They walked inside.

            Today, the Grand Hall looked different then last night. For one, the enormous room was flooded with beams of light coming from the windows high above them, and another, there weren't as many students inside. Harry Ron and Hermione sat down at the Hogwarts table with Seamus and Dean.

            "D'you think you'll get any beef on the task today?" Seamus asked Harry immediately after they sat down and helped themselves to eggs and toast. Hermione glanced at Harry to see his reaction, but he looked as if he didn't mind at all.

            "Dunno, maybe," he said through a sizeable chunk of toast, "I reckon they'll say something about it today," he swallowed, "I'd rather keep my mind off it for now."

            "You'll hear about it today, Harry," came a soft voice from behind them. Harry, Ron and Hermione turned around to see who spoke. Ron dropped his goblet with a clatter- it was Marindernia.           

"I haven't been told anything about it either," she said, her purple eyes fixed unswervingly on Harry's, "Professor Slaton is supposed to inform us on the first task before the feast tonight or something. Will you be there?"

"Er… yeah… where'd you hear this?" asked Harry interestedly, not looking as stupid as Ron did at the moment (Hermione swore she could see an appearance of drool at the corners of his open mouth.)

"My headmistress, Professor Kohl, told me earlier," Marindernia answered, blinking. Ron made some sort of moaning sound. Harry nodded.

"Hey, do you look different then last year?" Marindernia asked, as though she were resisting the urge to ask, and Harry looked at her, rather startled, "I don't mean to be boorish or anything… but I heard a few of the girls in my house chatting, and… I hadn't seen you in the newspapers because you were constantly fighting to get out to view."

She smiled harmoniously at the last part. Hermione glowered.

"He's changed," she murmured, "He had glasses."

"And who might you be?"

"Hermione Granger."

"Herm-ine-one, is it?"

"Herm-ione," said Harry defensively, as his smile faded, and Hermione found herself wanting to smirk in delight.

"I see," said Marindernia, tossing her long hair swiftly over her shoulder, "Well, see you tomorrow, Harry. And by the way… I personally think you look better without glasses."

With that, she glided away, meeting up with a group of her girlish associates, and headed down the nearest corridor. Ron, who had been watching his fate with misty eyes shouted, "NOOOOOO!" when she disappeared.

"Honestly, Ron" said Hermione, yanking on his robes to get him to sit, "She's just a girl."

"Nuh-uh… she's an angel," Ron sighed happily, resting his elbow on the table, and his eyes misting over again.

"Hermione's a girl," said Harry, who had long ago returned to his eggs, "and you don't go all googly-eyed over her."

"Wha- Hermione's a girl?" said Ron, "You're thinking weird, Harry. I wouldn't go for her, and you know it."

"Thank goodness for that," said Hermione vehemently, "I was beginning to think I'd have to give you a full body bind and…"

She came to a halt, and they both quailed under Harry's annoyed gaze. He picked up his Firebolt from beside him.

"Let's go outside to the pitch," he said, getting up, "It'll keep you to from bickering like an old married couple."

They left the Grand hall, and out the giant doors. Hermione was beginning to think that Harry's good mood wasn't going to last long. Ron had stayed quiet on the way to the pitch, something Hermione was longing to hear from him- silence. 

They trudged down a slopping stone walkway and emerged in a clearing; a very wide and spacious clearing that could only be the Quidditch pitch. 

"Wow," moaned Harry, tilting his head to the heavens to survey the many turrets all around the pitch, each topped off with a green flag. Like at the Hogwart's pitch, there were three giant gold hoops at each end of the green field and stands surrounding the edge- but they hovered in mid air. They walked to the middle, all three of them staring around in awe.

"It's like the World Cup," said Ron, "without the vendors."

Harry didn't spend another minute examining the pitch. He eagerly climbed onto his Firebolt, and took off with an uproar of wind that blew Hermione's bushy hair skywards. He took a few laps around the pitch as he left Ron and Hermione to watch. 

"Oy, Harry, let me have a bloody turn already!" yelled Ron, failing his arms wildly. It was then when Hermione realized something- Harry was back in his own little world. Where the wind whipped through his hair and the air was clean of din. She understood how imperative it was to keep Ron from flying on Harry's broom; Harry could get back in his good mood.             

            "Hey! Potter!"

            A voice Hermione had never heard before floated over the pitch, and apparently, Harry never heard of it either. He came to a halt in mid air about fifty feet above them.

            "You are Harry Potter, aren't you?"

            Hermione looked behind her and saw none other than Tisroc Whin, in his burgundy brown robes and carrying a broomstick. Harry had landed on the ground and climbed off his Firebolt already.

            "Er… hello," said Harry awkwardly, "You're Tisroc, right?"

            "At your service," said Whin, offering his hand which Harry shook, his eyebrows raised in suspicion, "And who may they be? Members of your fan club?"

            Hermione turned redder then Harry had at that moment. _Members of a fan club_?

            "No, _they_ are Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, my friends," said Harry crossly, "And I don't have a _fan club_."

            "Oh," said Whin, waving his hand in a passive manor, "Well, you're good on a broom. Play Quidditch? I do. I'm a chaser for my house, Zomalarth. I've heard you're the youngest player at Hogwarts in a century."

            Ron was steaming in anger, but that wasn't close to what Harry looked like. He was, well, going to erupt.  

            "Yes," he said in a strained voice as his hands trembled, "I play Quidditch. Seeker."

            "Ah, yes. The seeker of Hogwarts," said Tisroc in an incredibly spurious voice, his long hair blowing in the wind, "The most knotty position. Why, I remember my father telling me about your father-" Harry was glowering dangerously now, "-being the finest chaser in England. My, how the tables have turned. I've beaten your father's record, you know. He played Dryconderoga once, and Hogwarts won by so many points. But that was seventeen years ago. Plenty of room for improvement, as I always say."

            "_You-know-nothing-about-my-father_," said Harry slowly, pointing a long, shaking finger at Whin, who looked slightly nervous, "Whatever record you set is what I don't care about."

            With a dark look that Hermione had seen rarely in Harry's eyes, he mounted his broom again, and kicked off. Ron and Hermione couldn't do anything for the wind he created had stopped them. Harry was long gone in the direction of the castle. Ron turned sharply to Whin.

            "Exactly who do you think you are?" demanded Hermione angrily, "He's representing our school, you know. Just because you're competing against him doesn't been you have to be so cruel! He's been through a lot lately!"

            Whin stared at her for a moment, and Hermione found herself wishing she hadn't said anything at all. He blinked, and quite evidently, a horrible sneer appeared on his pale face. He reached inside his robes for his wand.

            "Hey!" shouted Ron, stepping between him and Hermione with his wand out which was pointed at Whin, "Don't you _dare_, you creep! Stay away from us, or I'll deck the floor with you!" he turned to Hermione, "Lets go find Harry."

            And they marched away from where they came, leaving the vindictive face of Tisroc behind with he broomstick. They didn't talk until they had come out into the clearing.

            "So much for giving Harry's Firebolt for a test drive," said Ron bitterly, "And what was with that bloke?"

            Hermione shook her head in frustration as she opened the door to the Grand hall.

            "He's horrible," she said, "I hope Harry beats him at the first task."

            Being almost noon, they soon found that every Dryconderoga, Nockdernia and Hogwarts students were feasting on the platters of food that looked like they had just swooped into the hall, but, just as Hermione suspected, Harry wasn't one of them. Maybe this could be an opportunity.

            "I'll go find Harry," said Hermione quietly, "You can go to the feast. I'm not hungry."

Ron glanced at her, shrugged his shoulders with an "it's your loss," and joined Dean and Seamus at the Hogwarts table. Hermione unwaveringly headed for the boy dorms; Harry was bound to be there, if not anywhere else. She had to find out a few things, and she knew just how to do it. Harry and her needed to be alone with no interruptions and certainly no Ron. Maybe with a stroke of luck, Harry might let out a few things. Hermione vowed not to tell anyone anything if he were to ask her not to. After all, Harry had never done that to her.  But for her reason, Hermione knew things needed to be set straight and laid on the line. She wouldn't back out, even if Harry was outraged and decided to dangle her from the tower by her ankles. It was time to ask Harry a few well-chosen questions.

**…~'*'~…**

A/N: The next chapter is what you have all been waiting for! Harry's secret! (no, it doesn't involve _contact lenses_, which kills me with laughter because Harry couldn't _possibly_ get them with he being a genuine wizard!) Hey, Marendenia and Tisroc don't seem nice, huh? One of them might change their attitudes in the next chapter, but I'm not sure. I know I said there would be the Strength task this chapter, but sorry. Next chapter, I promise!


	8. The Secret and Revealing of the Frist Ta...

Not a soul was in the common room that night. The fire was burning bright, casting a ghastly shadow over the armchairs. Hermione crept past this at a non-stop pace with an eager expression and without thinking twice or having a doubt, she pressed on down the narrow corridor to the boy's dorms. There, at the end of the passageway, stood an open door. She approached it silently and peered inside. Harry, of course, was there, lying on his four-poster with a leg up and an arm over his eyes. I love being right, thought Hermione. She pushed open the door without making as so much as a creak, and carefully approached him. 

            He didn't move, and Hermione took this time to mull over him. He looked terrible. His photo album lay open on his pillow, exposing the pictures of Lily and James Potter. Hermione felt a heartbreaking jolt in her stomach. They really did look good together, she thought as the photograph of Lily and James cradling a baby Harry in their arms waved at her furiously, smiles on their rosy cheeks. They looked so happy, yet their son was here, in front of Hermione, trying to shelter himself from the outside world. 

            "Are you here for something important?"

            Harry's voice made her jump. She nodded, though he couldn't see, and sat at the end of his four-poster. 

            "Harry, you shouldn't let yourself get pushed down by a few insults," she said quietly, as she found the lines in her hands immensely interesting, "Why don't you come down to the feast?"

            "No," snapped Harry in a final sort of way. Hermione didn't push the subject any farther. Like she thought, she wouldn't make him tell her anything he didn't want her to know. That was okay, as long as it wasn't like murder, or anything (which would never happen, of course.) Harry, without warning, sat up entirely and narrowed his dark-circled eyes at her.

            "Besides, that's not the reason you came up here, is it?" he asked her sceptically. Hermione shook her head slowly. He always managed to get things out of her; it was sort of an enchantment he had.

            "And I know what you're going to ask, so get it over with."

            Hermione thought hard, trying to put it all into the best words possible and delicately. This, Hermione thought, would almost be the most difficult conversation she would have with him… so far.

            "Harry, why do you look different?" she asked cautiously, "I mean, is there a reason?"

            "Yes, there's a reason," said Harry, looking strangely relieved, "And it all has to do with Sirius."

            Now we're getting somewhere, thought Hermione as she shifted closer to Harry. Her ears were open, her eyes were wide, and she was ready for any twist or surprise, knowing Harry had many.

            "You can tell Ron this too, I really don't want to repeat myself. You know how Sirius visited me? Well, It wasn't so he could terrorize the Dursleys, even though he bloody well did. He gave me a potion called Elixar Dismorgfigication. It affects your eyes, and allows you to see through invisibility cloaks and Polyjuice users. You know all the stuff with Crouch, using Polyjuice to become Moody? Well, this way, something like that will never happen again and I wont be lured into Voldemort's hands like last time," Hermione filched, but kept direct eye contact, "I don't wear my glasses now because it stings. Sirius said there was something in the potion I took that did it, I don't know. It's a load of rubbish."

            "It's not rubbish," said Hermione reasonably, trying to sound reassuring for Harry's benefit, "It's a good idea, and it'll keep you from getting hurt. I don't what that, Harry."

            She blushed realizing what she had said. Harry stayed silent as he sat beside her, his eyes on the floor. They stayed like that for a while, not saying anything. They didn't need to; they understood each other perfectly without speaking. 

            "I thought you'd dangle me off the tower by my ankles if I asked you to tell me what's going on," said Hermione miserably. To her amazement, Harry laughed. It was undersized and hollow, but unmistakable.

            "I'm glad I got something out of you," laughed Hermione. She moved forward, and gave Harry a quick kiss on the cheek. He smiled at her rosy cheeks afterwards.  

            "Thanks Hermione," he said, standing and looking full of energy, "Lets go to the feast."

He held his hand out to her and she took it. Her cheeks burned, feeling his skin on hers then returned to normal when he released. They left the common room, smiling and lively, and into the Grand Hall.

            The Grand Hall was fairly empty now, and only a few Nockdernians remained. Ron was restlessly sitting at the Hogwart's table with Lee Jordan, the twins and Ginny, who suddenly went red in the face. Ron beamed as they approached.

            "Reckon you're going to live?" asked Ron with a sinister smile. When Harry opened his mouth to answer, a voice was heard from the front of the hall, "Harry! Harry Potter! It's time!"

            Siamoen was hanging out of a door, his nails very noticeable on the dark oak door. Harry clapped a hand over his mouth.

            "I forgot!" he exclaimed, "The task! I'll see you later, okay?"

            He took off and was gone. A few small Nockdernians stared at he ran past and nearly knocked Dennis Creevy to the ground. Hermione bit her lip. Whatever the task was, she would hear about it some time today or tomorrow, whether it was civilized or horribly, _horribly_ appalling.

            "Hey, good job at getting him back to his senses, "said Ron as he joined George at a chess game, "What spell did you use on him? The body bind? Perhaps a stunning curse to ease his pain?"

            Fred and George roared in laughter. Hermione narrowed her eyes at Ron. He might be growing in height, but not in brains. She didn't waste her breath, so she turned around and stomped out, nose in the air. She needed to go somewhere to clear her thoughts. The library, evidently; besides, there were rows and rows of books begging to be explored.

**…~'*'~…**

            Much to Hermione's discomfort, Harry hadn't returned to the common room when Hermione went to bed (after she had filled Ron in about what Harry had told her, naturally. He didn't mind about it.) In fact, everyone had gone to bed. Ron and Hermione were left waiting eagerly for Harry and the facts about the task; they had been on their seventh game of chess until they decided not to wait any longer. Hermione slept effortlessly, perhaps because the sheets of her bedspread were more comfortable than those of her Hogwarts ones. She soundlessly dreamed of rolling hills and fluffy clouds until she had been vigorously shaken awake in the night.

            "Wha- WHO ARE YOU!" she screamed as she dived to her night table for her wand. She was pulled up by-

            "RON! What are you doing?" she said loudly, pulling away. He had a wide smirk on his face, and he was trying hard not to laugh. It was then when Hermione realized it was midnight, or near it. The other girls were sleeping soundlessly; they must have been enjoying the bedspreads as much as Hermione had.

            "Shut up already, and get changed," he said quietly, "We've got to help Harry."

            Hermione raised her eyebrows while she dumbly sat there, watching Ron creep back outside. What about Harry? He wasn't back yet- or was he? Hermione jumped out of her four-poster, and scrambled around for her sweater and jeans. Maybe he was going to tell her about the task. She hated being so meddlesome, but she had helped him on the first task last year in the Hogwarts tournament. Maybe she could do the same this year?

            Hermione rushed to the door, threw it open, and was thrown into complete blackness. Something like a cloak had landed on her. She twisted madly, trying to get away until a warm hand clamped firmly over her wrist. Even though it was dark, she could clearly see two emerald eyes staring down at her. They were under Harry's invisibility cloak.

            "Harry!" she breathed, "What are you doing?"

            "Keep it down!" he warned, "Come on."

            Hermione couldn't ask another question. She was steered out of the corridor and out the common room, Hermione making the most noise out of them all. Sure, you couldn't be seen, but you could be heard. But Hermione had no idea where she was going and it was completely dark out (and it didn't help that Ron kept 'accidentally' treading on her foot.) They entered the Grand hall and, by the light from the weak fire coming from the hearth, approached the door.

Harry grasped the handle, and said, "I'm not going to tell you about the task. I'm going to show you it." He pulled the door open with a heave, and they slinked outside.

It wasn't as dark outside then inside. In fact, that was an understatement. The grounds were drenched in light from the moon in the dark clouds. The lake was just evident over the small knoll a few yards away from them. It looked magnificent, and Hermione had to admit that Dryconderoga was in an ideal location. The tides shimmered at every soft blow of wind as the trees swayed in the distance. Harry pulled the cloak off of them.

"What about the task?" Hermione asked Harry in confusion. Ron suddenly didn't look so happy. He frowned as Harry pointed to the lake with disgust.

"That's the task," he said bitterly. Hermione dully looked from Harry's pointing finger to the lake. What could he possibly mean?

"What are you talking about-"

"The task _is_ the bloody lake," explained Ron hotly, "That's a mighty big lake, right? Well, Siamoen thinks it's funny to make all the champions swim across it and back, for the task of _strength_."

Harry didn't look too happy at all, and Ron was beside himself. You could tell right away he didn't take any sort of liking to the headmaster of Dryconderoga. Hermione was speechless. The lake? Swim? Whoa… that can't be good. You see, Harry didn't have any sort of swimming lessons -being the Dursleys would much rather have him drown- and the only time he had came close to swimming was last year, but he had help with some Gillyweed (a rubbery liquorice type substance that made you grow fins and sprout webbed hands.) And now, for certain, Harry obviously wasn't permitted to cheat with Gillyweed. And he wasn't exactly what you called 'as strong as a bull' either.

"Oh, great," sighed Hermione, "What're we going to do?"

Harry started to climb down a little trail that obviously led to the lake. He didn't answer right away.

"Well, I _will_ try," he said as Hermione and Ron scrambled after him, "If I do bad on the first task, I'll just do better at the next one."

Hermione admired Harry for his courage and valor, but this was something she was convinced he couldn't handle. What if everything would go down just like last year?

"Harry, if you fail, you'll be the laughing stock of the school! All three of them!" she reasoned. Harry sharply turned to her, eyes dancing.

"Then I'll let them laugh,"

Now this was the highlight of Hermione's trip. Harry suddenly gained major self-assurance, and perchance lost his mind?

"Look, I'm not going to let them laugh at me like last year. There're not worth it. I'm going to try, okay?"

Hermione smiled warmly, another of those warmness twinges rippling down her spine.  

"That's perfect with me, Harry."

They had reached a small sliver of edge of the lake, this place being the rockiest. Perhaps Harry wanted to be sure they couldn't be seen. It had a small area of sand there, but it looked dirty; sticks and black debris washed up onto the small bank.

"I hope Tisoc sinks to the bottom," said Ron vehemently, then he gave a evil crackle (an overstatement, naturally.) It echoed quite a long distance, and once he got a clear look at Hermione's furious expression, he stood silent. Harry, on the other hand, didn't make any smart remarks about how much they bicker. He passed them and sat at the edge of a rock that was hanging over the water.

"What're you doing?" asked Hermione in perplexity.

Harry stuck his hand into his jean pocket, and looking as though he found what he was looking for, said, "If I don't want to make to much of a fool of myself, I've got to practice, right?"

He held a pocketknife Sirius had gotten him for his birthday a few years ago. It looked well used and slightly tarnished. Hermione watched in interest as he reached down, and started to slash at his jeans just below his knee. It cut the fabric to bits, and soon enough, he took off almost half a pant leg. 

"I can't swim in robes, and I haven't any swimming trunks, so this'll do. It'll make less drag," grunted Harry as he started on the other leg. Ron raised his eyebrows at him as if he had cracked.

"That's one less pair of slacks, you know," he said, "Nobody wants to see a Harry Potter walking around half-naked."

Hermione turned red. Harry turned around and stared at Ron with a stern look as if he thought that would be the last thing Ron would ever say.

"I've got plenty more," he said unenthusiastically, "I'm sureMarindernia would love to see you walking around like that, though."

Now it was time for Ron to turn red. Harry laughed quietly and put his pocketknife, cloak, robes and (once he had taken it off) his shirt securely tucked away under a bush. Before Hermione realized what he was doing, he jumped into the lake. With a holler of thrill from Harry, a spray of water washed up. Hermione shrieked at scrambled away to avoid it. 

"Sorry, did I get you wet?" said Harry, who was completely wet as he bobbed on the surface with his arms and legs sprawled. He grinned innocently at her, hair plastered to his forehead and eyes shinning brighter than usual. Hermione sat at the edge of the water next to Ron, and said, "You can be so immature sometimes, Harry."

"Isn't it grand?" said Ron with a smile (it wasn't like Harry's. It was more brainless-like).

Harry looked like he hadn't been so boundless since, well, since ever. He dove to the lake floor and came back with many odd looking shells from creatures and Hermione, having nothing better to do, mindlessly arranged them into small groups by their colour (they soon stopped since a particular grim looking shell attempted to separate Ron's finger from his hand.) Soon, Harry was swimming back and forth effortlessly. Hermione had to come clean: he was a quick learner, either for Quidditch or something as straightforward as swimming.

"It's really easy, now that I've been in here a while," spluttered Harry as he came up from a dive, "I hope it's not this bloody cold tomorrow, though. And look- my hands are all wrinkly."

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "You have the skin of an elephant now, Harry-"

"What's an elephant?" asked Ron at once. Harry grinned.

"Never mind," mumbled Hermione. She thought her attitude would get on Ron's nerves, and he would normally be howling at her then, but instead, he clutched her shoulder, painfully. His eyes were focused on some point in the darkness of the trees and boulders to their left.

"I think I saw someone over there," he breathed as Harry silently swam nearer, "They were watching us."

Hermione stared. The branches from trees around a point were all bent, like someone had peeled them back. It was awfully close to where they were standing. Harry heaved himself out of the lake and stood, looking around with narrowed eyes.

"Do you want me to go look?" he asked quietly. Hermione shook her head almost at once. People were out for Harry, Voldemort being one of them. But was the Dark Lord really studying them behind a clump of earth and trees? Would he really be stupid enough to want revenge on Harry at a time like this? What if Harry went to investigate and he came within range of a well-able person with a wand?

"No, stay," said Hermione as she took her wand from her robes. Harry and Ron's faces looked very apprehensive. 

"_Lumos_," Hermione whispered. Her wand lit up, a very bright light that cast a shadow over the areas where Ron had seen the person- but they were gone.

"WHAT'RE YOU DOING? ARE YOU _CRAZY?"_ roared Ron in fright. He was looking at Hermione with frightened eyes.

"Ron, what's-"

For a moment Hermione thought there was some kind of earthquake; the ground started to shake, first faintly then violently. Stones the size of Quaffles fell from above and landed, dangerously close to where Harry, Ron and Hermione were standing. Just as Hermione was about to retreat to a overhang of rocks after Harry and Ron, something huge, something immense came out of the water with a thunderous sound that made the ground shake even more viciously. As Hermione stood frozen with fear for what was in front of her, she realized just exactly what it was- a tentacle. Not one of those tentacles that you would see on an octopus at a pet shop, but an enormous, giant of a tentacle.

Hermione's mouth was open in a silent scream as the slimy, purple thing wrapped around Hermione's waist, and tightened. She was never really aware what was happening until the shouting of her name came to her like a slap in the face. All she saw was water, the lake below her. Then, when she found her voice, she screamed in terror.

"Do something!" screamed Ron's voice amongst the roaring of whatever was holding Hermione. Whatever sound it was would be sure to be heard at the castle.

Then, as Hermione kicked, shrieked and thrashed about, a voice was heard over the rest- "ACCIO HERMIONE!" Hermione's face was just inches away from the cold water when she felt the hold of the tentacle loosen, then release completely. The next thing she knew, she was soaring across the water, everything flashing past her like a film. Then, she hit something with a soggy splat. She looked up, and flushed magenta; she landed, out of all the places, in Harry's lap. 

_"Oh,_ I'm s-sorry," she gasped as she pushed herself up from his wet chest (which made her blush even more, if it were possible.) She backed up against the stone barrier in mortification. Ron, who was staring at Hermione in fury, helped Harry up.

"That was bloody brilliant, Harry," he said in astonishment, "How'd you get so good?"

Harry brushed himself off of the twigs and pebbles that were stuck to his skin and said, "I was practicing." Hermione decided it was a good time to join in the conversation. She hoped they thought she was just temporarily shocked from what had happened.

"You really are getting better, Harry," she said, trying her hardest not to redden, "That's a really tricky curse to learn, and it's takes a lot of power and strength to summon a person. You've perfected it only a few months!"

"Because you've taught me it."

Hermione couldn't help but smile back at him. Wow, she thought, he really has changed…

"Don't you realize what you just did? You could have _killed _yourself! You could have killed us too, if that thing was still hungry enough!" Ron's voice cracked like a whip over Hermione's thoughts, _"Giant-squids-don't-like-wand-light," _he spook as if she were two, "You could have died if Harry hadn't done what he did!"

"Let's just go back, all right? Someone might notice we're gone," said Harry hastily, and before they could answer, he collected his things and started to climb the ledge to the castle. Ron and Hermione followed.

Ron was staring at Hermione in an accusing way the walk back, even though it meant he couldn't see where he was going and he tripped on a dozen or so roots of trees and rocks. But, Hermione, being to preoccupied with her own thoughts, wasn't aware. She forgot all about the 'someone' who at some point was lurking in the bushes. She had never seen Harry like that, the way he looked that night. Maybe it was something about him, but not like he had something vulgar stuck in his teeth. Maybe it was something about his eyes? His smile? It was all wrapped up into on colossal package. That night, she understood why she was so embarrassed to be around Harry and why blushing around him became a strange sort of daily routine. That night, as she stared at the canopy of her four-poster, she realized something that finally made sense to her- _she was in love with Harry Potter!_

**…~'*'~…**

**A/N**: All righty, there is no fluff in this fic. Here are the reasons: the fluff has left the building; the fluff is out to lunch (and wont be back in fifteen minutes); the fluff is out to dinner with a swingin' fluffette; the fluff is on a sugar high, running ramped and is wanted for the use of illegal drugs. Please take your pick. If you do fancy fluff (which I know a lot of you do, judging from your e-mails) I'll let you know there won't be fluff until the next two chapters (maybe.) *deep breath* Anyways, I got this chapter out because everyone was pushing me to (which is somewhat okay as long as it doesn't get out of hand. It forces me to write.) And if you don't like this story because there's no fluff, I don't mind. Please feel free to read another fic. Also, I understand my spelling/grammar isn't very good, so please don't e-mail me about how horrible I am. It's not like spelling Polyjuice wrong is illegal, people.


	9. The Task Of Strength

_Mariel4000_: I know Ron's acting like an asshole… just the way I want him to be! I really hate him though… almost as much as Malfoy :::ewww::: I hope this chapter clears it all up for you!

_Gia_: Look in your inbox ^_^;

_Sassy_: Hey, I just read one of your fics, but I can't remember which one. But anyways, I'm glad you don't want fluff in this fic. And yes, without glasses… HARRY'S A HOTTIE! :::ahem:::

_NAPPA_: I already told you when I updated, but it must be Thursday in New Zealand if it's Friday where I live, or something 0_o;

_Lunarian_: Well… there isn't exactly Fluer/Ron in this fic, but there is something similar… that's all I'm saying.

**…~'*'~…**

It was a very busy beginning of the weekend. Professors rushed down the corridor short of time in search of their students; the portraits lining the staircases and doorways were whispering behind their hands; people dressed up as if it were a very important occasion. Nearly every seat in the Grand Hall was taken the next day and no such room in the castle was quite as loud as this one. The reason? Today was the day the First Task would take place.

            Hermione woke up to this turmoil, revived and agitated. With her Hogwarts robes on and her hair reasonably tamed, she came down to the Grand Hall, and once she managed to find the Hogwarts table through the packs of neon green, black andburgundy brown, sat down with Ron. Harry was nowhere in sight, which was somewhat heartening to Hermione. She pretended to be curious to where he was.

"Where's Harry?" she asked Ron as she picked up her fork, but didn't eat, "Shouldn't he be here before the task?"

Ron swallowed the bit of eggs in his mouth, and said, "Yes, but this tournament is different. It's not at Hogwarts, so the rules changed around."  
            He looked somewhat tense. At first, Hermione thought it was with the anxiety about Harry, but then she realized he didn't worry much last year. At that moment, Lee Jordan taped him on the shoulder to ask where Harry had gotten to. Ron, not realizing whom it was, jumped up and said, "Well, Harry's here, so I'll go." Lee walked off, staring at Ron like he had grown another head.

"Er, Ron, that wasn't Harry," said Hermione with raised eyebrows, "What's up?"

Ron looked apprehensive.

"Well, if you're begging so much, I'll tell you," he blurted, looking very nervous "Look, Hermione. I haven't done this before, so keep your mouth shut," Hermione frowned, "I'm sorry I've been so mean to you, and everything. I've been acting stupid."

Hermione stared. Ron just apologized… to her… without Harry egging him on.

"Really Ron?" she asked. Ron nodded grimly, a look of disgust crossing his face, "Thanks, Ron. That makes me feel better," he went wide-eyed, "Maybe you should apologize more often. You're really good at it."

"No," said Ron tensely, "I'd die if I had to do it again. It was hard enough the first time! Isn't that _enough_?"

Hermione smiled, and laughed.

"That's fine, Ron."

Sometimes he can be such a dolt, Hermione thought.

"What's fine?" 

Hermione's breath caught in her throat and she felt color rush to her cheeks. No doubt, Harry was behind them.

"Ah, nothing," said Ron excitedly, his mood changing entirely, "What's up? How are you felling? Nervous? When's the task?"

Harry, much to Hermione's discontent and relief all at once, he sat next to Ron. His face looked very ashen and his robes looked as though they were put on in the dark.  

"Harry, are you sick or something?" asked Hermione suspiciously, "You can't do the task if you caught pneumonia."

"No, I'm fine," said Harry in a slapdash fashion, "Just tired a bit… and I just came by to see you before I go."

It was then when Ron and Hermione noticed that the students from all three schools were exiting through the door that led to the grounds. A few Gryffindors waved to Harry in good luck.

"I have to go get ready."

Hermione stood up. She showed no emotion in her face. She just sighed, walked up to him and wrapped him into a tight hug, not for too long and not to quickly. Harry stared at her as she let go.

Hermione sighed again, her face pointing to the ground, and sniffed, "Good luck, Harry."

Then she walked away into the crowd of students getting out of the Grand Hall. Luckily, Ron didn't follow right away… if he saw the blush in her cheeks, who knows what he would have done!  He bid good luck to a still stumped Harry, and followed, elbowing his way to her.

"What was that all about?" he asked Hermione in interest, "If you're going to get all mushy and emotional, warn me next time, okay?"

He shut up once he noticed her red and tear streaked face. Perhaps he knew what she felt- worry and regret

"He'll be okay, Hermione," said Ron assertively, "He'll do okay, you said so yourself! What's all this about?" he let out a shuddering gasp at that moment, his hand pressed against his mouth. It looked as though he was suddenly rammed by one of Hagrid's blasted-end Skrewts, _"OH!_ I get it! A little lovey dovely, I bet, eh?"

Hermione glared at him in annoyance. It was enough for Ron to know what was happening, but _why_ must he act like such an idiot over it?

"Ron," said Hermione in a threatening way, "If you breathe a word- if you tell a soul-"

"I won't tell. I swear over my own grave. You can burry me alive if I tell. I swear," he sneered, "But you should."

Hermione nearly tripped and fell when her foot caught a rock as they headed down the slop to the lake. Ron laughed as he heaved her back up.

"I-I should what?" Hermione asked him, though knowing the answer, but she wasn't going to let him know that.

"Tell him what you feel! You know, a quiet spot with nobody around," Hermione longed to smack that stupid smirk off his stupid face, "I bet he bloody well likes you too-"

"Ron!" Hermione cried in false frustration, "He would not! He's got enough things on his mind with the tournament and all. He wouldn't like me anyways… h-he just wouldn't."

"You can't think of a reason why not, huh?" said Ron sincerely, "You never know."

They had reached the edge of the Lake, opposite to where Hermione was nearly eaten by the giant squid. Though, it looked much different. There were now stands by the hundreds lining the edge of the water, for one, and the water looked very violent. The seats were nearly filled with excited students already. In the stands closest to the shore was a booth- inside were Professors Kohl, Siamoen and Dumbledore, all looking tentatively at the ground. Hermione felt as if a heavy weight had released from her shoulders. There was simply no way anyone would attack Harry, Voldemort or not. Then she realized how funny it sounded to be afraid if the shadow of the person they saw on the beach last night would attack Harry.

"Where's Harry?" said Ron to Hermione as they and others walked to the stands, "He better not be late. Remember last year?" he grinned, "Funny, he had to swim then too."

Hermione looked around as she walked, careful not to trip. It seemed every school had their own set of stands- one was full of students with colourful robes, one burgundy brown and another, obviously the Hogwart's stands, black. The only person on the shoreline was a man decked in gold and a whistle hanging around his neck. Ron and Hermione found a seat in the middle of the Hogwart's stands with Neville, Seamus and Dean, who were searching the shoreline, most likely for the champions. 

"There he is!" shouted Lee Jordan from above, "At the lake!"

Hermione looked around, and so did everyone else. Sure enough, and the starting point of the beach, Harry was walking towards them, wearing nothing but the jeans he cut up last night for swimming trunks. With him were Marindernia, who was wearing a vivid pink bathing suit, and Whin, looking differently bright with his floral swimming trunks. They came to a halt next to the man in gold. If Harry was pale from nervousness, Hermione was to far away to tell.

The stands were particularly silent now. The only noise was the crashing of waves hitting the rocks a far ways off. Hermione watched as the man in gold nodded to the Champions, turned his head to the stands and raised a hand into the air. The next moment, his voice was heard a hundred times louder than normal.

"The Champions are ready!"

The stands roared in applause as Harry, Marindernia and Whin took their places at the very edge of the water, their feet just touching the waves that washed up onto the shore. They each got down and ready, as if they were running a marathon. Dumbledore, Kohl and Siamoen leaned over the booth to watch.

"No time limit," proclaimed the man in gold, "Points are given to the fastest Champion and are minimized pending on the time. The task- to swim to the shore on the other side of the lake, and back."

Those who didn't know what the task involved looked slightly scandalized. Most were staring in awe at the man in front.

"Magic is not permitted under any circumstances. If otherwise, the champion will be disqualified. The most points awarded is the student in the lead," he took a deep breath, "Let the Task of Strength begin!"

The stands exploded in applause and the man in gold walked to the stands and sat beneath the booth holding the headmasters and headmistress. The champions looked ready; the students watched the ground with wide eyes. And then, a whistle was blown.

With a roar of ovation, the champions were off. Harry, Marindernia and Whin all ran, full speed at the vicious lake. It was then, at that moment, when Hermione realized something- Harry could easily do this. Every Hogwart's student eyes were on this powerful, stalwart boy who everyone once thought was a withered runt. Hermione had no idea Harry could reach this level of superiority, and by the sounds of the constant murmur in the stands, nobody else did either. Harry was suddenly separated from his juvenile, little kid behavior and runty, fragile appearance. Hermione was amazed how long it took for her to realize it.  

Harry's long legs jumped around and over the waves, and when he could no longer dodge their powerful blows, he dived. Soon after, Marindernia and Whin did the same. Hermione faintly leaned back in her seat. Maybe Harry _was_ going to win.

"Well, there goes Harry's reputation," said Ron with his mouth barely moving to form the words he spoke, being that his eyes were fixed to where Harry should have been under the water, "His bad one, I mean. Look at him go!"

Harry, now just a small dot in the middle of the lake, shot out of the water to come up for air. He started swimming as hard as he could, both his arms thrashing about in circles. Marindernia and Whin both followed suit, and then they soon became level with Harry. 

The stands were going wild. Fred and George were on their seats, trying to get the crowds to chant some rhyme that involved Harry 'creaming those waste of human flesh cowards'. Most were standing, looking over the heads in front of them, searching for their champion. Then, when Harry, Marindernia and Whin were scarcely visible and they nearly crashed into the shore on the other side, they turned the other way towards those waiting for them, and dived. If Harry wanted to win, this was the time where he would put his newfound physique into gear.

"COME ON, HARRY!" Ron shouted in excitement, "GO, MAN!"

It certainly did look as though Harry was putting all his effort into his swimming. Marindernia and Whin were marking him very close. It looked as though they could tie. Their indistinct bodies slowly became more distinguishable, and soon, they were almost fifty feet away from the shore. Hermione had never seen anyone swim so fast.

Hermione stood on her seat, her heart pounding painfully against her rib cage, trying to shield the sun from her eyes. The stands rose to their feet and the coast was filled with the ear-piercing screams of encouragement. The champions were so close now that they could see Whin's furrowed brow, Marindernia's pained expression and Harry's resolute face. They looked exhausted and not at all tolerable. 

Then, as the crowd hollered and the Headmaster's and Headmistress stood, as the waves crashed and a deluge of water washed up onto the beach, the champions reached knee-deep water. Harry pushed himself, his face pale and his legs looking stiff with weariness. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead and his body dripped with water. Hermione watched him, her eyes unmoving and lips thin.

The man in gold leapt forward, his wand out. He shouted a spell, and almost at once, a thin, silvery ribbon was extended from a tree on one side and a boulder on the other. The champions ran to it.

Hermione held her crossed fingers in her lap, her heart feeling like it was about to beat out of her chest. The students on either side of her held their breath. Some screamed to levels so high that it could make your ears bleed. But it was apparent what was going to happen.

Tisroc was first to hit his point of triumph. He hit the ribbon, and it broke. Harry was hardly a second behind. Then Marindernia crossed the finish line. The blow from the whistle made it official, and the stands erupted with applause, though it was not as loud as the Dryconderoga stands.

"HE DID IT!" howled Dean and Seamus, "HE'S SECOND!"

            Hermione wasn't aware that students poured onto the pitch. She wasn't even aware that she was almost the only person left in the stands. She was completely sidetracked- by Harry. He had collapsed onto the sand on his back in exhaustion, his chest heaving. He pressed his hands over his eyes, whipping the water away. Something inside of her burst like fire.

            "Now for the scores!" announced the man in gold, waving a threatening finger at anyone who dared to run to their champion. Everything went quiet again.

"The judges will vote on performance, speed, and of course, strength. Miss. Marindernia is first. Professor Kohl, if you please."

Marindrenia apparently didn't care of her score. She was still catching her breath, looking as though she had been chased by a horde of giant squids. Hermione looked around at the Professor's booths. Professor Kohl, wrapping her shawl tightly over her shoulders, waved her wand. The number seven shot out her wand and disappeared in smoke. There was a small round of applause from the Nockdernia stands. Then Professor Siamoen stood and produced the number six from his wand.

"She's not going to make it with thirteen," Hermione said to Ron quietly, "Harry should get better."

Dumbledore's turn was next. He stood, a smile on his rosy face, and raised his wand. He formed a seven too.

"Twenty's not bad," said Ron half-heartedly, some blush rising onto his freckled face, "At least she tried."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Mr. Tisroc is next," announced the man, "Professors, continue."

Tisroc looked very surly at his score. An eight from Professor Kohl, a nine from Siamoen and the same from Dumbledore. His school applauded quickly, obviously waiting for Harry's score. Hermione bit her lip, her hands wringing in her lap. This was the moment that she had been dreading. What if Harry got a terrible score and he wouldn't speak to anyone for his humiliation? Than she remembered what he had said to her yesterday night. Was Harry really up to beat a score of twenty-six?

The Hogwart's students waited silently. Professor Kohl took a moment to think before raising her wand and producing an unmistakable eight. Hermione screamed in glee and cheered along with everyone else. Harry finally sat up. He obviously thought he'd get scores worse than Whin's. He beamed, watching Fred and George pretending to cry in each other's robes. 

Next was Dumbledore. He raised his wand and out came the spiral shape of another eight. More cheers of excitement erupted from the Hogwart's stands, and Hermione had a feeling they were getting louder and stronger, counting down until the last score-which was now. Hermione pressed her hands over her eyes and put her head in her lap in uncertainty, waiting for some sound of praise or thrill. There was some sort of hole in her stomach that she couldn't explain. It was indescribable, but still there, eating away at her insides. Maybe it was doubt? She didn't know.

Hermione listened so hard in almost hurt. She could hear the biting on Ron's fingernails beside her and the shuffling of feet that were yearning to jump up in ecstasy. First, nothing. Then Hermione heard it: the sound of the ribbon being shot into the air. It would be producing a number at that moment… and…

She was almost thrown off her seat from the force of Ron and Neville leaping up, their arms flailing about. The applause at the Hogwart's stands where deafening. Hermione shot up as though hit with a sudden bolt of electricity, just in time to see the number Siamoen produced… a nine. One point away from Whin's score, only no student cared. Maybe the entire Hogwart's school _did_ learn from their mistakes since last year.

"Hermione!" shouted Ron, tugging on her arm, "Come on!"

            She was pushed, half carried, onto the ground. Her ears were filled with the non-stop excitement and screaming from everyone around her. Ginny was dancing around, hugging her third year friend; Fred and George (who were beaming with satisfaction) were being paid off for their bet by Lee Jordan; Professors Sprout and Flitwick were cheering something ecstatically… and Harry was lifted into the air. He was grinning from ear to ear, his hair still soaked and his eyes shinning with excitement. 

            "You did it Harry!" yelled Neville, who hadn't looked so blissful in his life, "You're one point away from Whin!"

            "I did!" said Harry in disbelief, "I really did it!"

            Hermione watched him. He looked so happy. The way he should be and the way he looked better. He laughed and smiled as the crowd of people carried him around, chanting his name and whistling. That was when she and Ron reached him. He jumped down.

            "Did you see that?" said Harry loudly in disbelief once he joined them, "I did it, Ron!"

            "You did, Harry!" said Ron, yanking his arm into the air, "That was ruddy brilliant!"

            Hermione, meanwhile, was standing in the background, feeling misplaced. She made sure her face was pointed down and her shoulders were straight, not slouched. Fiddling with her robes, she hoped against hope that Harry wouldn't-

            "Hey, Hermione! What's wrong?"

            She frowned 'Me and my theories,' she though savagely, 'why doesn't Harry just walk over, tell me I was wrong, and finish me off? I've almost never been wrong, so now Harry's going to admit it… brace yourself…'

            But it never came. No 'I told you so' or 'you were wrong' followed by some horrible laughter. He didn't even speak. Maybe he had gone back to the festivities or perhaps he was lifted onto the shoulders of his Gryffindor friends? But they were still celebrating without him. Hermione decided to look up.

            Harry was closely in front of her, his head cocked to one side and his eyebrows raised. Ron was behind him, his face shining with anticipation. He gave Hermione the thumbs-up.

            "Hermione, I know you can't admit you were wrong, so I'm not going to lie," said Harry softly, his hair still dripping wet, "You were right."

            She gaped at him. Ron stopped in the middle of his impression of kissing an invisible person behind Harry's back.

            "I know you thought I could do it, but you just didn't want to say it," said Harry softly, "You knew that I could do it. Something's bothering you, but I'm not sure if that's it. I might have a slight idea."

            Hermione didn't say anything. She just let her arms fall to her sides, her stomach twisting in something she had felt before. It was the same sensation she felt when she met Harry the first time that year, and almost every time he had spoken to her. She had that feeling coming back to her again, and this time, it was stronger.

            "What makes you say that?" asked Hermione timidly. She felt sick, and the memorizing look of Ron's face made it worse. Harry, however, didn't answer at once. He slowly took her hand.

            'Wait… what is he doing?' thought Hermione in horror, 'Oh, gosh… oh no! Wait… this so bad after all.' She looked up again. Ron was silently cheering to himself, throwing his hands into the air and chanting some silent gibberish. As Harry's grip on her hand tightened, Hermione was no longer aware that Ron was acting like a complete dolt behind Harry's back. Her ears tuned out from the sounds of the cheering and excitement and her eyes became resolute. Harry simply smiled.

            "Your eyes told me."

**…~'*'~…******

A/N: *deep breath* AWWWWWWWWW! Now, wasn't that cute? That's as much fluff you'll get for the next few chapters. Sorry for all you fluff lovers out there. Next chapter has something incredibly interesting… but I wont tell you what…*insert evil laugh here*


	10. Diagon Alley

**A/N:** Canada's 'stupid' and 'nothing', is it, Herb Brooks? Well…

CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON! CANADA WON!

**********************************************

**CANADA WON THE GOLD MEDAL FOR WOMEN'S _AND_ MEN'S HOCKEY! (And yes, we do exist. Very much so.)**

**…~'*'~…**

"Your eyes told me."

            'What on earth does that mean? What does he know?' thought Hermione for what felt like the hundredth time that day, 'was something wrong with me? Was I blushing? Stupid, Hermione… what does that have to do with your eyes?'

            It had been two weeks since the first task, and Hermione hadn't spoken much to Harry. You see, she was avoiding him. Not exactly by mistake and certainly not intentionally… okay, more intentionally than by mistake, but she had reasons. Firstly, she wanted to do her part of being the only student who didn't swarm up to him; secondly, his image had changed completely in the first task; and thirdly, she had fallen for him. Of course, three reasons were enough for Hermione to be shunning Harry (at least, in her mind's eye).

            Harry wasn't exactly thrilled in these days either. Maybe it was because of Marindernia or Whin, Hermione didn't know. She did know that Ron blamed Whin entirely. One day he was babbling to Hermione about catching Whin off-guard and threatening him with some treacherous potion that would rot your insides and make your bones shrivel up, but Hermione wasn't listening. Harry had just turned up at the end of their corridor with Fred and George. Hermione paled immediately, and steered an outraged Ron away before he could spot them. Yes, this went on for two weeks. _Two long, agonizing weeks. _

Hermione was getting desperate. She was almost on the edge about asking Ron to force Harry and her to talk, but then she remembered that she was the one doing the avoiding. Half of her wanted to go chat with Harry, and the other held her back, like some sort of invisible tug-of-war, and she was the rope. Little did she know, on that day at the end of those two weeks, her decision was made clear, and it all started the minute she woke up.

Hermione got dressed, checked that her hair was reasonably tamed and went down to the common room. The moment she stepped into the green clad room, she knew there was something going on. Ernie MacMillian sulked past her, looking very embarrassed with his pink checks; Fred and George were standing in a corner with identical devious smirks fixed on their faces and Parvati and Lavender were giggling like they had taken a tittering potion. Ron and Harry were standing among Dean and Seamus, but none of them looked as though they could match Ron's anger. He was positively steaming at the ears.

"How can they _do_ this to me?" he howled as Hermione approached, "NOT AGAIN!"

"Exactly _why_ are you making so much racket, Ron?" asked Hermione strictly once she had fought her way into the circle. Ron, apparently, was too infuriated to speck. Harry jabbed his thumb to the opposite wall, and when Hermione looked round, she spotted a bulletin board.

'This can't be so bad,' thought Hermione tiredly as she walked up to it, 'such a small thing to get upset over-'

Then she realized it wasn't when she read the only piece of parchment pinned to it:

_This year students from ages fourteen and up will be participating in the annual Anika Ball, which will take place on September the twenty-ninth in the Grand Hall at midnight. Being that this is a formal event, students are required to wear their finest dress robes/ evening dress to this occasion. School champions and their partners will open the ball. The garden will be open to private converse and dinner as well as beverages will be provided._

_                                                                                                                                                                        Thank-you,_

                                                                                                                                                                                    _Professor Slaton Siamoen._

Hermione's heart gave a funny jolt. A ball? 'This couldn't possibly happen', thought Hermione nervously, 'what'll I do? I can't go through with this again!'

            There was a ball at last year's tournament too. The Yule Ball wasn't really thrilling, but Hermione had a good deal, since she hadn't gone alone. Victor Krum, her partner from last year, was a Professional Bulgarian seeker whom she had seen play at the Quidditch World Cup. He was a terrible dancer and he was eighteen at the time, but on a higher note, she hadn't spoken to him since she had seen him off at Hogwarts.

"Sounds like fun, eh?" said Harry once she returned. Hermione looked up at him to check if he was joking, and when she saw his bland face expressionless, she wasn't sure what to say.

They hurried to the Grand Hall where it looked like some sort of meeting was taking its toll. Everyone was gossiping secretively and as Harry, Ron and Hermione sat down at the usual Hogwarts table, the talking stopped.

            "All right, enough- get to your seats for an announcement, please!" said Siamoen, who had just approached the front of the hall. Dumbledore was standing next to him, his beard twitching as he watched the Hogwart's table.

            "We have an announcement to make," started Siamoen once everyone had gone silent, "Now, I gather you've all read the notice in your school's common rooms? Yes? Well, I know none of you have the chance to go purchase your dress robes, and so forth, so I'm granting you a trip to Diagon Alley in London!"

            Most of the girls looked thrilled. Parvati and Lavender instantly seized their notes from their pockets of the gowns they hoped to get and whispered excitedly. For some reason, Dryconderoga and Nockdernia tables didn't look at all pleased. In fact, they all glared at the Professors.

            "Don't fret, my fellow Dryconderoga and Nockdrnia students, Hogsmeade is just as good as any! They've got bookstores and Ice Cream Parlors and Joke Shops and foreign bistros and all those fascinating what-you-calls-ems" he let out an excited breath, "Well, we'll leave on the first day of the weekend, so keep an eye on your calendars."

            Doom hit Hermione… hard. Since that day, she didn't quite feel herself, like she was constantly sick in the stomach. Maybe she felt sick more than she looked, but who was there to judge? Ron. He was the worst of all Hermione's misery of the surprise ball, and it made her want to wrap her fingers around his freckled neck and strangle him. When Harry, Hermione and him walked down the corridors, Ron was the one who made all those childish noises, and Hermione could tell Harry was starting to get a little suspicious. Or maybe it was because he was nervous about the ball too. Hermione didn't know, nor did she want to ask him.

            Perhaps Harry would dance with her? Somehow, she knew he wouldn't ask her to the ball. She would often peek around corners or around people's head to watch him (the exact opposite of avoiding him) to see if he was asking anyone. But, Hermione was surprised. Harry was usually the one to be hiding from view of girls and Hermione had once seen him ducking behind Ron as they crossed the Grand Hall. Maybe he wanted to go alone?

Hermione knew for sure, when that dreaded day would come, she would be dressed very elegantly, but for no one. She wouldn't get a partner, and while Lavender, Parvati and Ginny were giggling over pieces of paper on their four-posters, Hermione would be reading a book or doing her Charms homework on hers. What was the point of getting ready for something you would have no fun in?

"You've got to crack open your shell, Hermione!" said Lavender one day as she tried to summon a flower to put in her hair, "It's your chance to dress up!"

"And plus," Parvati added, "You're one of Harry Potter's best friends! The boy who beats the Slytherins senselessly at every Quidditch match so far, and the boy who fought you-know-who more than anyone!" she giggled, "And plus… he's rather good-looking. Maybe he'll take you to the ball! Gemmas been turned down by him already. Maybe he's waiting for you!"

That's the way it always went in the girl's dorms. Gossiping about boys and dresses were always heard and the remains of flower pedals were covering the ground. Hermione, however had better things to do, but maybe that wasn't the case on the day of the Hogsmeade trip, and the day before the Anika Ball.

They used a filthy pair of Muggle suspenders as a portkey to get there. As much as Hermione enjoyed being so close to Harry as possible when they laid a single finger upon the suspenders, she despised portkeys. It meant ending up halfway across the world, and it was very common for someone to end up off his or her target. If you wanted to go somewhere tropical and you only packed a swimming suit, you could end up at the North Pole.

The next moment, most of the Hogwarts students (the others would be coming a moment after) appeared in the middle of the crowded street.

"Oh, my head," moaned Ron, who had landed in a very odd position with his legs beneath his arms, "Hey! We're here!"

Harry, who had already managed to stand, heaved a blushing Hermione to her feet and they all looked around. Ron was pointing to a banner hanging above them that had in gold writing _'Diagon Alley: Just what the wizard ordered!'_  The street was tightly lined with shops and restaurants, which were packed with people. Hermione saw Quality Quidditch supplies next to Flourish and Blotts. 'That'll be Ron's first stop', thought Hermione savagely. 

As a few wizards and witches stared at the crowd of students who ended up in the middle of the street, Professor Dumbledore's voice was heard somewhere in the throng of students.

"Students, have a good time and come back to his very place at the end of the day. Obey the rules, and please, don't get into trouble!"

"Well," said Harry, who didn't look properly happy until now, "You heard what he said. Let's go!"

And they did. It was the first time Hermione felt like her usual self since they left Hogwarts; this was practically an opportunity to get away from the studying at Hogwarts. And they went to all the usual places they used to. Unfortunately for Hermione, Quality Quidditch supplies was first, and as Hermione waited impatiently outside the door, Harry and Ron came out with bulging packages of all sorts of things Hermione feared to see again. 

Hermione noticed that the Dryconderoga and Nockdernia students were also roaming down the lanes, looking apprehensive. Some were even having a good time (Hermione saw a few Nockdernians hurry into a bistro, obviously eager to try some of that 'foreign' food Silversmith told them about). But, at the same time, Hermione noticed the Dryconderoga students, who were glaring at every witch and wizard who walked by them, seemed to be torn between excitement and dignity. Maybe they hated the way the Hogwarts students took the appealing side of Diagon Alley so precious.

A few of the teachers were seen also. Dumbledore and McGonagall, obviously, went to The Leaky Cauldron for a drink, but Hermione was a bit surprised to see Professor Kohl, who was politely sipping her wine with a smiling face, and Silversmith, who was howling in laughter for no apparent reason in the window. As much as Hermione wanted to watch them, she was eager to go to Flourish and Blotts, and she dragged Harry and Ron with her.

When they entered the deserted and murky store, a bell chimed deep inside the shop.

"Why do we have to go here?" moaned Ron with annoyance, "What's the point?"

But Hermione was too preoccupied with searching the dusty bookcases for something she hadn't read already (which was like trying to find a needle in a haystack), until something caught her eye.

_"The New Hogwarts: A History!"_ squealed Hermione in shook as she seized the large volume from the shelf with trembling hands, "I knew it was coming out! I read it in _Witches Weekly, _but I never knew it'd be so soon!"__

Ron wasn't pleased, and he was about to say something until the storeowner walked inside, his large boots hitting the wooden floor with a loud _clunk_ at each step. He stood behind the register, a kind smile on his aged face.

"Yeah, we just got those brought in last week," he said in a rough voice, "It's got _everything_."

Hermione scurried over to him, her eyes shining with anticipation. She didn't listen to Ron's noise of annoyance.

"_Everything?_ The Professor updates?"

"Yes."

"The new map of the grounds?"

"Sure does."

"And the reviews of the four houses and who's in them?"

"Yes indeed, hon, and you can get it for a small price of," Hermione held her breath, "five galleons."

Hermione frowned. She only brought money for her dress and perhaps a small mug of butterbeer. How could see know that her ultimately favorite book was lying on a shelf in a place she only visited to look for _'The History of Mugwamps'_? And now, her hopes were shattered. She set the book on the counter, and shook her head.

"I haven't enough," she mumbled sadly, taking out her purse and putting one lonely galleon on the counter, "That's all I've got to spend. I need the rest for my robes."

As Ron crackled evilly behind her, Harry, who Hermione almost thought wasn't there at all, stepped forwards.

"How much do you have?" he asked Hermione, reaching into his pocket, "I've got four galleons to spend. You can have that."

Hermione went pink.

"Oh, no, Harry! I couldn't do that!" she said quickly, "I don't want to waste your money!"

"How is it 'wasting' if you want the book so badly?" said Harry, smiling. As Hermione stuttered foolishly, Harry took out four galleons from his pocket, set them on the counter with Hermione's gold piece, and said, "One updated version of the new '_Hogwarts: A History'_, please."

"Sure thing," said the storeowner, a smile on his rosy, wrinkled cheeks. Hermione, who apparently had no opinion in this, found a package stuffed into her arms. She looked down, and thinking the whole thing was just some miraculous dream, gasped in amazement.

"Thanks so much, Harry!" she yelped before hugging him… briefly, "I've wanted this so much!"

"S'nothing," said Harry, whose eyes were twinkling. Ron scowled, angry that he didn't see Hermione suffer.

"So," said the shop owner, leaning over the counter, "You're Harry Potter, eh?"

Harry, who was sidetracked by Hermione's sudden spurt of happiness, nodded in regret. The shopkeeper smiled even wider, and this time, it reached his eyes.

"You're the talk of London, you know. I've heard it ever since the start of the year," he said as a matter of factly, "All the stuff about the tournament. You did very well, I'd say."

"Er… thanks," said Harry, who didn't look the least bit impressed. He didn't like people gapping at his scar, or indeed knowing who he was.

"You know the lad? Whin, I think he was? Well, he grew up around the shore, you know? Surrounded by water," continued the old man, his voice reduced to an excited whisper, "I don't know where, exactly, but somewhere remote. And you were almost tied to him. You were almost head-to-head with him, you know what I'm saying? And you live with Muggles. It's some wonder you were close to beating him, of all people."

Harry stared at the man in perplexity, and Hermione had a faint inspiration that he thought he was slightly mad.

"Where'd you read this?" Harry asked he storeowner, "In the Daily Prophet?"

"Yes indeedy!" said the storeowner happily, "It was all there two weeks ago." 

Harry thought for a moment, looking very confused, and Hermione couldn't blame him. Wherever this man found out this stuff, the resource wasn't giving Harry any bad reputation. Hermione painfully remembered Rita Skeeter, the most recent Daily Prophet reporter, who dug up the dirt on Harry, Hagrid, and even Dumbledore. As much as Hermione hated Skeeter's comments of Dumbledore being 'an old crack pot', that wasn't compared to how angry she was about her dozen articles on Harry. In one, she said that her and Harry were more than just friends (while the thought appealed to Hermione), and there was some love triangle with them and Victor Krum. But alas, Rita Skeeter got what was coming to her. Hermione trapped her in a jar.

"Well, thanks for the book," said Harry finally, "We've got to go."

            "Good luck on the next task!" called the storeowner as they left the shop. Harry, Ron and Hermione walked a few paces, away from the bookstore, and stopped outside of The Leaky Cauldron.

            "We've got to split up," said Ron, gesturing to himself and Harry, "We've got to get our dress robes for the…urgh…ball."

            "You'll have enough money, won't you, Harry?" Hermione asked Harry nervously, "I shouldn't have let you buy me that book."

            "I've got enough, Hermione," said Harry, while laughing, "We'll meet you at the Leaky Cauldron in thirty minutes, right? See you later."

            And they left, leaving Hermione to look around. 'Might as well make the best of it' she thought tiredly, 'what else is there to do?'

            Hermione followed the flow of people on the lane, and she caught a glimpse of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions- it was crammed with people. There was no way she was going to get in there, unless she used a levitation spell to float above all the heads, but she'd get in trouble for sure. Where was she going to get her dress? Then Hermione had a small but terrifying thought of the night of the Anika ball, and she traipsed through the doors wearing some appalling costume a vagrant would wear, and Harry was there, a grimace on his perfect face and Ron howling in laughter. This, of course, made Hermione walk faster.

            Hermione had never seen another clothing shop in all of Diagon Ally other than Madam Malkin's, but then again, she hadn't seen all of Diagon Alley either. Harry had when he escaped his uncle and aunt, but he wasn't with her. 

            Hermione's worrying was about to reach its breaking point until she found herself in the other part of Diagon Alley she had never been in. The crowds of people were thinning out and not many people seemed to be in the shops. It was then when she found her store with the sign that shone like a beacon of hope- _'Miss. Marmalade's Fine and Not-So-Fine Robes'._

            Hermione rushed there, her purse jingling with the gold she had saved in her purse for her dress. When she got there, she pulled open the door, and almost leapt inside.

            It was empty. The walls were covered in robes and dresses and ties of every colour you could imagine. Several stools and chairs sat at the bottom of the opposite wall, but nobody was in them. The only person who occupied the room was a witch who was folding scarves with her back turned on the other side of the room.

            "Excuse me," said Hermione quietly, "I'd like a dress robe, please."

            The witch turned. Hermione could immediately tell she was young by her pink face and long black hair and that she was Miss. Marmalade. She smiled.

            "Of course you do," she said, "Why else would you be here?"

            Hermione watched her step behind the marble counter, the beads of her bracelets clinking together.

            "What do you have in mind, hon?"

            Hermione looked around, but there was nothing she'd like. To her left was some revolting orange robe with bright pink buttons that looked like it was something Silversmith would wear. Maybe he shopped here too? Then there were the normal robes, which looked just as ugly, but Hermione would never admit it to the storeowner.

            "Well," started Hermione, "The school I'm visiting, Dryconderoga, is having a ball, and I don't know what to wear. All my friends are at Madam Malkin's, but it's too crowded there."

            "Yes," sighed Miss. Marmalade, "It's always been like that," she looked wistfully out the window for a moment, then, as though noticing Hermione was still there, shook her head a little, "Dryconderoga, you say? That's a long ways away."

            "We used a portkey," said Hermione quickly, and she walked closer to the counter. She smiled.

            "So you're from either Nockdernia or Hogwarts?"

            "Hogwarts," said Hermione, "How'd you know?"

            "The Daily Prophet," answered the witch cheerfully, "They've got all the Tournament information, you know?"

            Hermione thought for a moment. So everyone was reading the Daily Prophet for the Tournament. She made a mental note to herself to tell Harry.

            "I'm guessing you wouldn't like anything on the walls, right?" said Miss. Marmalade.

            Hermione bit her lip, not knowing what to say. She couldn't come out and say 'no, Miss. Marmalade, you robes are revolting. I'd rather kiss a Hogwart's toilet seat'. 

            "Oh, dear, you don't have to be so timid!" laughed Miss. Marmalade, "This store's basically holds all the robes for more aged people. I'm not offended!"

            Hermione tried not to voice her wretchedness.

            "So you don't have anything for me?" she asked remorsefully. Miss. Marmalade, however, clapped her polished hands together in triumph.

            "Oh, but I do!" she said secretively, "I've been saving it for a costumer like yourself, being caught in a place you were forced to go to."

            Hermione wasn't sure what she was doing, but she watched as Miss. Marmalade turned to a mirror that has hung on the wall behind the register, and swing to one side. At first came the shock that normal mirrors couldn't do that, than the other was that here was a small space behind the frame.

            "I've had this beauty for a year now," said Miss. Marmalade as she pulled whatever was in there out. She put the mirror back into its regular position and turned to face Hermione. 

            In her arms was a dress- the most beautiful dress Hermione had ever seen in her life. It was a sparkling midnight blue gown with straps for the shoulders and attached to it was a matching shawl that shimmered in the light. Hermione beamed as Miss. Marmalade passed her it, acting as though it were invaluable porcelain.

            "It's _beautiful,"_ gasped Hermione, running her hand over its soft surface. It felt like some sort of silk that was warm to the touch.

            "Isn't it?" said Miss. Marmalade fondly, "I haven't shown it to anyone of your age. I've tried with the older folks, but they're more into the plaited robes."

            Hermione snapped out of her trance, and asked the question she wasn't sure she wanted an answer to.

            "How much is it?" 

            Miss. Marmalade thought for a moment, saw Hermione eager face, and said, "Well, for such a sweetie like you… fifteen galleons."

            Hermione almost screamed in thrill. She had sixteen galleons with her.

            "I'll buy it!" she said at once, and dove into her purse to retrieve the gold. She set it on the counter, and Miss. Marmalade rang it up on the register.

            "What's you name, anyways?" she asked Hermione as she tucked the gown into a package. Hermione looked up, being too distracted with watching the dress- her dress.

            "Oh! Hermione. Hermione Granger," she answered in a hurry. Miss. Marmalade raised her eyebrows.

            "Are you really?" she asked with her eyes shinning with anticipation "I read about you in the Daily Prophet last year. About you and Harry Potter."

            Hermione went scarlet.

            "Was that love triangle true, or was Rita Skeeter just flapping her lips?"

            "Harry's one of my best friends," Hermione said quietly, "And Rita Skeeter just made all that stuff up to get some dirt on Harry."

            Miss. Marmalade smiled, and Hermione was surprised. She didn't have a hint of doubt in her expression.

            "I thought so," she told Hermione as she carefully passed Hermione the finished package of the dress, "I thought she was lying. She's disappeared, did you know that?"

            "Oh," said Hermione, fixing her face to what she hoped looked like confusion, "R-really? I never knew that."

            "Yes, well, it's a good thing too," said Miss. Marmalade, "I cancelled my subscription, with all her nattering about how 'problematic' Harry Potter was. It sounds like he's doing well this year!"

            "He is," said Hermione, who was smiling very widely now, "Thanks very much for the dress! I'll come back when I get another chance!"

            And she left with her perfect dress with a light head. This was going to be best ball ever. _Parvati and Lavender would never get a dress like this one,_ thought Hermione cheerfully, _and they like Harry… whoa… is that jealousy in my voice?_

            After a few minutes of walking, Hermione spotted Harry and Ron standing outside of the Leaky Cauldron, Ron looking miserable and Harry looking over the heads of the people who passed him. When she approached, Ron let out an enormous groan, and rounded on her.

            "What _took_ you?" he hissed as they walked into the pub, "How many robes were you getting?"

            "Just one!" snapped Hermione, holding up her shopping bag, "And did you get your robes?"

            Ron wasn't carrying a package, but Harry was. Ron huffed, and sat at an empty table. The Leaky Cauldron was usually very busy, but it seemed that everyone was at Madam Malkin's.

            "You did get robes, didn't you Ron?" Hermione asked Ron again as she and Harry sat. Ron's ears went red.

            "I remembered Fred and George bought me robes at the beginning of this year," he admitted, "I don't know how they got the money, but they got me the best robes in Diagon Alley. I just remembered them when we walked into the tailor's shop."

            Hermione didn't say anything, but inside, she was about to burst. Yes, it was official. Ron was as dense as dense could get. Harry, looking from Hermione to Ron, got up and said- "I'll get drinks, then. If you bicker, it'd keep you quiet."

            "That's not necessary," said a feminine voice, "I've got it."

            The three of them spun around, and saw none other than Marindernia standing behind Harry. She was carrying four mugs of butterbeer on a tray. As Hermione and Ron watched her with curious eyes, she stepped in front of Harry and set the tray of butterbeers on their table.

            "Listen, I want to apologize for how insolent I've been to all of you," said Marindrenia, more to Harry than Hermione and Ron, "I want to make it up to you."

            Harry stared at Marindernia's purple eyes for a long moment, as though scanning her for any mistrusts. Then, to Hermione's horror, he smiled, and gestured to their table.

            "Thanks," he said, "Do you want to sit down?"

            And Marindernia sat beside Ron, who looked temporarily frozen. Yes, thought Hermione in happiness, internally cheering as Harry slide into the seat next to her. Marindernia passed the Butterbeers she brought with her around, one to each of them.

            "So, I hear you'd go here every year back at Hogwarts," said Marindernia enthusiastically, and Hermione get the impression that she had never been to anywhere like Diagon Alley in her life, "It must be fascinating, coming here all the time. I wish Nockdernia could do that," she sighed, "But we go to Nelson's Square all the time. Horrible place."

            "So you're enjoying it here?" asked Hermione as she sipped her butterbeer. Marindernia smiled very widely, exposing her perfectly straight teeth.

            "Oh, yes! I just came back from Madam Malkin's. She's a nice lady, don't you think?"

            "Yeah…" mumbled Ron, who had his elbow resting on the table, his misty eyes on her and his forgotten butterbeer sitting on the table in front of him. He looked the same way when he saw Fleur Delacour for the first time, his expression bumbling and pathetic.

            "I've been to Flourish and Blotts, the Ice Cream Parlor, Quality Quidditch Supplies," continued Marindernia, counting off her long, polished fingers, "that other place… forgot what it's called… and have you seen the new robes at Madam Malkins?"

            She was going on like that for about ten minutes, and Harry and Ron were the only ones listening. Hermione was too busy focusing on anything but Marindernia's rambling and Ron wouldn't have taken his watery gaze off her face if you poured a cauldron full of spiders down his robes. Harry was just nodding, smiling and drinking his butterbeer. That was enough for Hermione.

            "Hey, Marindernia, do you know what's up with Whin?" asked Harry, cutting off her talking about the 'fascinating' triple fudge covered chocolate newts, "He hasn't been very…er… _pleasant."_

            Marindernia looked disgusted. Maybe she didn't like Whin much either. Then Hermione thought, who _could_ like Whin?

            "Oh! Him," Marindernia told Harry distastefully, "I'm not at all surprised. He is very unkind to me. He could be eaten by one of those vulgar squids, for all I care."

            Harry looked surprised, and this time, Ron seemed to snap out of his state. Clearly, the first meeting with Whin was still on his mind.       

            "Why?" he asked, "What did he do to you?"

            Marindernia admired her polished fingernails for a moment, and said, "Well, he did say a few things to me. Just yesterday, he said 'you're slower than my grandparents and their crippled old pooch'. Very unlikely presumption, don't you think?"

            Ron looked furious. He thumped his fist on the table, causing a few witches at another table to stare. Harry held up his hand to keep him from saying something stupid.

            "Really? He didn't say anything about me, did he?" Harry pressed on, his face eager. Marindernia rolled her eyes.

            "Of course! He said all this rubbish about beating some Quidditch record your father held," she said, "And how he's nervous about loosing it, whatever that means."

            "Hey! It's almost sundown!" said Ron suddenly, who was looking at his watch. They all stood up, and when they put their empty mugs on the bar, they left the pub with their packages, full and warm.

            "I'll see you, Harry!" said Marindernia as she pranced across to her other Nockdernia friends. Harry waved, while steering Ron away from her to the other Hogwarts students huddled around Dumbledore.

            "Harry," said Hermione as they fought their way to the portkey, "What did Marindernia mean about Tisroc being nervous about loosing his record?"

            Harry shrugged, and gently tugged Hermione towards him (as she wasn't getting anywhere with the crowd pushing her around) to touch the grubby suspenders.

            "Dunno. I reckon we'll find out tomorrow."

            And they disappeared from the streets of Diagon Alley.

**...~'*'~…**

**A/N:** Sorry about that outburst earlier, but you can't be Canadian and not like hockey. Well, I don't like hockey… I LOVE it! Personally, I think Brooks should realize that he needs to pipe down a bit on his _Canada hating_ _insults_. But, I must admit, I'm glad Team USA acted all calm and collected about getting a silver, _which isn't bad at all (_heck, we put up with it for years!). While team Canada was celebrating on the ice, back home, everyone was having some sort of heart attack. I actually saw some guy running through a car jam with nothing but a pair of boxers with the Canadian flag on it. Nuts, put patriotic. I heard some guys from a fire station climbed into their fire truck, and zoomed down the streets, siren ands lights blaring when they saw the last of the game. It's _that _crazy. But their's something to keep in mind, Canadians… 

**We've finally broken our fifty-year goldless streak!**

Oh… sorry _*ahem* _almost forgot. Do you want proof that Harry and Herm are getting together? Go to this link-- http://www.hindustantimes.com/nonfram/231201/dLFOR15.asp

My love to Pat Quinn (who is the _coolest_ coach), Jarome Iginla (who scored a stupendous goal for Canada), Mike Peca (who scored another… and he's just really cool), Martin Brodeur (because he's the best goal tender on earth), Mario Lemieux (because… you name it!), Team USA (for everything under the sun!) Wayne Gretzky (because he's the one who organized Team Canada in the first place… and he's The Great One!) and, my favorite, the little Canadian toonie that was hidden in the ice for the women's and men's game (hey, it's good luck!) They brought the gold back where it belongs!

Now, if you excuse me, I must wave my Canadian flag around like a maniac with the others (but I'll keep my undies on, thanks…nah!) 


	11. Privileges and Partners

Today's the day. The day when all the giggling girl's hard work pays off and the day where the sun was intense and the sky was cloudless. The day when there was definite thrill in the air, like some sort of wind tunnel. The day when everything was chaotic and exciting. The day when Hermione Granger planned to stay in her dorm for all eternity… or until the Anika Ball was over.

            A ball was simply no reason to get all excited for. It's just a bit of sparkling dust and lights, nothing more. Just a bit of music and dancing. You could go anywhere to do that. But Hermione couldn't help but wake up, get dressed and hurry down to the Grand Hall. Who wanted to hear Lavender and Parvati's incessant shrieks of excitement whenever they'd show each other's dress?

            Harry and Ron were sitting at the Hogwart's table, playing chess. Ron was winning, as usual, and it showed. His face was flushing with triumph, and when Hermione approached, he leapt to his feet, and roared, "CHECK MATE! HA!"

            "Good morning to you too," said Hermione spitefully as she sat down next to Harry.

            "Uh… morning?" said Harry, as he smiled brightly, his eyes glistening, "Don't know if it helped."

            Hermione huffed, and crossed her arms, finding it immensely hard to keep a straight face. Harry seemed extra endearing today…

            "Did you find a partner yet?" Ron asked Hermione as he dumped the chess pieces into a worn-out drawstring bag.

            Hermione huffed again, this time finding it easier to frown, and said, quite curtly, "No."

            "Harry hasn't either," said Ron with a smirk on his freckled face, "I'm sure you'll both find partners."

            Hermione wanted to slap him. He obviously knew Hermione wanted to go with Harry.

            "Have you?" asked Hermione strictly, and Ron scowled, "That's what I thought."

            Ron flushed in embarrassment. He could have only looked the way he did know when he asked Fleur Delacour to the Yule Ball in front of her girlish friends last year. He had ran up to his dorm and complained to Harry, who had came back to be turned down by Cho, but it was more peaceful. She was going with Cedric, at the time. Harry wasn't as brainless as some desperate people would be.

            "Oh, really?" said Ron, "What about Krum? Are you going to ask him to come all the way from Durmstrang to go with you?"

            "Shut up," said Harry sternly, "I know where this is going."

            Ron's ears turned red.

            "D'you want to go see Hagrid?" suggested Harry, trying to get off topic, "Siamoen told me he'd be outside."

            Hermione realized how many things they needed to tell him; about the Tournament, the other champions, and most of all, the next task. Perhaps Hagrid knew a little more than either of them did.

            "Sure," agreed Hermione eagerly, "We can ask him a few things."

            They stood, and left the Grand Hall.

            Today was almost certainly the finest day of all since Hermione had been at Dryconderoga. The sky was cloudless and the grass seemed greener than the other day. A few odd looking birds, that resembled peacocks more that anything, were grazing beneath a tall oak tree, feathering their long tails with fondness. Then Hermione had a small glimpse in her mind of what Fred and George would do if they saw them; she wanted to laugh with mirth, thinking that any fascinating bird that looked award winning and valuable would never leave the grounds with all their feathers intact. 

            Ron and Hermione followed Harry, since they didn't know where Hagrid would be, down a slopping lawn, past a vine covered stone wall, and they found themselves at the edge of a long stretch of grass. Hermione's mouth fell open in incredulity.

            Hermione knew Hagrid loved dragons profoundly, but she never would have predicted this. Hagrid was holding a thick, long chain that eventually led to the same Hungarian Horntail that brought them to Dryconderoga. It was a very pleasant sight; Hagrid looked happier than Hermione had ever seen him. He roared with laughter, waving his arms around, as the enormous Horntail tried to snap at him, smoke bellowing from its nose. He didn't seem to catch the fact that the Horntail only saw him as a very annoying fly.

            "Hi, Hagrid!" called Harry, who had seemed to notice this too, "What're you doing?"

            They walked further up to him, cautiously watching as Hagrid turned his back on the Horntail to see them, which, Hermione thought, was not a very good idea. Hagrid dropped the chain, which almost made the ground shudder, and met up with them.

            "Ah, what a beaut, eh?" he said tearfully to Harry, Ron and Hermione, "She needs someone teh play with. I'm gonna give 'em some of me bedtime stories I cooked up when I had Norbert."

            Being Norbert was a baby dragon, and Hagrid was offered it at a pub. Hermione didn't see how he could manage to read this Hungarian Horntail a story without being burnt to a crisp. 

            "Well, don't get too close," said Ron, "You still have to teach classes at Hogwarts."

            Hagrid smiled.

            "Hagrid, we've got some things to ask you," said Harry eagerly, "Have you heard anything about Whin breaking some record my dad set?"

            It seemed as though someone had erased Hagrid's happiness; he frowned bitterly.

            "Yeah, I asked Dumbledore 'bout it," he said, "Somethin' like a speed record. Dunno what that means… but the bloke broke it, an' all. Ruined everythin'. Not everyone was pleased, I'll tell yeh. Yer father was famous, remember."

            Harry sighed, his face near a boiling red. He looked furious. Ron looked past him at Hermione, a look of concern on his face, and nodded ever so slightly to Harry. Hermione got the point.

            "You'll teach him, Harry," she said quietly, "He's just an interference. Don't let him bug you." 

            She reached up and, knowing Ron's eyes were watching as if he was daring her, latched her arm through his and patted his shoulder. _Score! Eat that, Ron Weasley_, her mind shouted.

            "Don' worry, Harry, you'll get em' back fer it," said Hagrid reassuringly, "in the next task."

            He stopped, looking furious with himself for saying too much. Ron eyed him suspiciously.

            "Do you know something we don't, Hagrid?" he asked Hagrid, trying to look him in the eyes, but Hagrid grunted and turned around.

            "I've got ter go an'… fetch the flobber worms fer feedin time," he said, then he hurried back to the Horntail, cursing to himself. Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other.

            "He's not exactly good at keeping things quiet, is he?" said Harry as they wandered around the grounds. Hermione snickered.

            "Not exactly," she said, swooping down to pick up an interesting flower, "Wonder what he meant by that. I doubt he even brought his flobber worms."

            Ron laughed, but Hermione could tell he was slightly appalled.

            "Flobber worms… urgh! And what about that Dragon? He'll bloody well be happy if the damn thing bit his arm off! He'd think it just wanted to play. Have him for dinner, more like it…"

            They found a place under a willow tree, just across from the castle, and lazily sat under it. Hermione almost thought she had slipped into her dreams; it was like something you'd see when you were sleeping. The willow had owls, ravens, and some of those beautiful birds she had seen earlier sitting in its branches. Even the stream that flowed nearby had some sort of a misty glow to it. There were many butterflies fluttering around, and the leaves blew in the gentle wind.

            "You know, we should be finding partners for the ball right now," said Harry, "I'll be looking pretty stupid, opening the ball by myself."

            Hermione didn't want to look over at his face, which was most likely panic stricken. She closed her eyes, leaning against the tree as if it was her pillow.

            "I bet Hermione wouldn't mind if she accompanies you to the opening," said Ron, "Would you, Hermione?"

            Hermione said nothing, but her face burned in humiliation, and Harry was silent, so Ron dropped his attempt of being downright annoying.

            "I honestly don't care," said Ron (no change there, thought Hermione savagely,) who was sitting cross-legged against the tree beside Harry, "There's only one girl I'd like to go with, but I reckon she's already going with someone else."

            "Marindernia, I bet," said Hermione cleverly, "Why don't you ask her?"

            Hermione heard a huff, then the sound of a stone being thrown into the stream.

            "She'd never go for me. She's got all those other boys in her school who'd ask her in a second. I'm just Ron Weasley, pal of the famous Harry Potter and his brainy friend… no offense," said Ron, "And like you said last year, Hermione. 'You only like girls who are gorgeous'."

            Hermione felt slightly offended. It was true, she did say that, but it was only because she hadn't found a partner either. He kept turned down the 'ugly' girls who asked to go with him, and he ended up with a girl Harry fixed him up with. But Hermione had never heard Ron speak of a girl like the way he did a moment ago.

            "Ron, you sound pretty sincere," said Harry, as though he had read Hermione's mind, "Even though she does look like a Veela, you seriously like her… don't you?"

            If Ron had nodded, Hermione wouldn't have seen it. She felt this sensation that Harry was smiling very widely.

            "Let's change the subject… what about the next task?" said Ron uneasily, "D'you think it involves Quidditch, Harry?"

            Harry chuckled.

            "Your not one for changing subjects, Ron," he said, "I really don't know… I hope so. I'd like to get back on my broom… without interference with Whin, of course."

            Hermione wasn't able to hang on their words any longer. The conversation switched from the second task to Quidditch. I haven't a clue how that could have happened, Hermione thought to herself. But really; since when did Ron get so profound about girls? He'd normally be seen goggling at girls as they passed last year, but where did all this seriousness come from? He certainly did sound hurt when he realized that Marindernia had a variety of boys to chose to be her partner. And Harry didn't seem as much upset as he did, and he was opening the ball.

            Was this the only time Hermione was going to feel genuinely sorry from Ron in her life? That big shinning moment that she would never see again? She knew Harry had the makings of getting a partner for the ball, as much as it embarrassed Hermione to admit it. His vivid green eyes, his chaotic black hair, his firmly muscular- whoa. _Where'd that come from?_

            "Herm! Wake up!"

            Hermione found herself being shaken awake by someone somewhere in front of her. She opened her eyes, and tried her hardest to prevent herself from blurting out something stupid, for it was Harry.

            "Sorry," she said, getting to her feet "Must have dozed off."

            "We'd better get to the castle," said Ron, looking at his watch, "The ball starts in an hour."

            _"WHAT?"_ screamed Hermione in horror, "Come on, I've got to get ready!"

            She grabbed each of Harry and Ron's arms, and hauled them away from the comfort of the willow tree to the castle.

            "Oh, why d'you need so long to get into a dress?" said Ron in repulsion as he tried to pull away, but when Hermione was this fervent, she could kill, "We only need a few minutes!"

            "Yeah, well, girls are different, Ron," said Hermione.

            They ran all the way back to the castle, wrenched the door open to the Grand Hall, and came face to face with Marindernia. As soon as Harry, Ron and Hermione caught their breath, they looked up at her. Ron whimpered.

            "I was going to go out and look for you three," said Marindernia pleasantly, "but now you've found me!"

            "What's up, Marindernia?" asked Harry with a vigilant side-glance at Ron. Marindernia smiled.

            "Harry, can I speck with you… alone?" she asked him, her eyelashes fluttering.  

            Hermione frowned, thinking of bad things that could happen to her. Perhaps a potion incident? Or maybe rampaging hippogriffs? She was going to ask Harry to the ball, she knew it. Ron seemed to think this too; he looked as though he'd burst into tears.

            Harry nodded, and he and Marindernia both walked to the side where they couldn't be overheard. They started talking, Marindernia tottering back and forth on the balls of her heels, and Harry nodding. Ron sighed heavily, watching them.

            "There goes my chance," he said forlornly, and Hermione definitely felt a sensation of sympathy towards him.

            "Oh, you'll get another chance, Ron," she said, patting his back, "Maybe Fleur'll pop by and dance with you."

            Hermione watched as Marindernia giggled, and Harry nod, while laughing also - then they did some sort of a hug, but more sociable. Hermione didn't care; her face burned with fury and she swore she could hear steam blowing from her ears. As they hurried back to Ron and Hermione, Marindernia said, "Ron, I'd like to ask you something."

            Harry was grinning so widely beside her that Hermione thought it was in danger of falling off his face. Ron looked up, obviously not realizing that Marindernia was in front of him.

            "It'd be an honor if you could accept my invitation of being my partner to the ball," said Marindernia, staring at Ron's freckled face. Hermione beamed.

            "O-okay! I mean… of c-c-course!" gasped Ron, and finally, he smiled. He smiled like he had won a million galleons.

            "Perfect!" giggled Marindernia, clapping her hands together, "See you at the ball then!"

            And she skipped away, up the staircase, then down a corridor, her hair flowing behind her. Ron hadn't noticed his mouth hanging open.

            "Close your mouth, Ron, it's bee season," said Harry jokingly, "Are you happy now?"

            Ron, out of all people who were inconsiderate and rude, howled, and lunged at Harry.

            _"Am I?"_ he roared, hugging Harry's arm, "I've got to tell Dean and Seamus!"

            Hermione stared as Ron skipped to the corridor that led to the Gryffindor dorms, noticing the strange similarity between him and Marindernia's ecstatic departure. Harry rubbed his arm where Ron nearly ripped it off, but he was smiling nevertheless.

            "That'll shut him up for a bit," he said.

            Hermione stared at him in astonishment. She really doubted what she just saw, but if it was real, that was an awfully considerate gesture. She had never seen this side of Harry, and it almost scared her to think that she liked it… _a lot._

"You're such a great friend, Harry," said Hermione, and before she could stop herself, she closed the space between them, and hugged him, a little longer than briefly. _Oh, smooth move,_ Hermione thought. She almost let go, planning to cower in her dorm, but she found Harry's arms casually wrap around her waist. She shivered with delight.

            "Not yet," he said in her ear, "I've got something to ask you. How are my chances of me going to the ball with you?"

            Hermione's heart leapt, and she found it hard to breath. Maybe she was dreaming? But no. Her head was resting on- _his chest? _She inhaled his scent, like pines in a forest. He felt like those fluffy white clouds you'd have in a dream.

            "They're at an all time high, Harry," she replied, thanking the stars that the Hall was empty, with the exception of a few Dryconderoga first years at their table.

            "Well," sighed Harry as he tucked a few of Hermione's curls behind her ear, "That sounds awfully tempting."

            Hermione smiled. This was it. The moment Hermione had been waiting for. She held her breath, and crossed her fingers behind his back. 

            "Herm, will you go to the ball with me?" Harry asked at last.

            Hermione was so caught up in the amazement of him asking that she didn't answer right away, but she could tell Harry knew better than to think that she didn't want to accept. It was absolutely obvious that she was _dieing_ to go with him.

            "Yes, of course, Harry," Hermione answered.

            So Hermione blissfully pranced to her dorm once she and Harry bid each other goodbye, hoping beyond hope that nothing could spoil her mood. Not even Lavender and Parvati or Malfoy. As she danced past squeaking suits of armor and paintings of whispering witches, she waved at everyone who passed, and skidded into the common room. She had only one thought clearly launched in her mind- _I'm going to the ball with Harry Potter!_

**…~'*'~…******

**A/N:** I'm not going to bore you this time. I just wanna say "WELCOME, LAVENDER WEASLEY, TO FF.NET!" She's one of my best friends, and she's also got Chris Rankins (Percy Weasley) on her contact list for MSN! (no, I didn't become her friend so I could chat with him! *smiles deviously* But seriously. We've been friends since kindergarten, and I felt like promoting her, even though she had no stories up yet.) Also, **a hint for my next chapter** -- the word 'Anika', which is actually a name, means 'beautiful' in Latin, or something. Well, since this author's note is too short for my liking, I'll put some pointless mumbo-jumbo up. Well, actually, it's a commercial promoting the new movie Zoolander, which is _really_ funny!

Ben- Well, I guess the real challenge of playing someone like Dereck is, you know, everybody knows him. I mean, he's probably the most famous male super model in the world.

Derek- Probably? Probably?

Ben-Ummm… I mean, definitely… definitely.

Derek- Definitely? What's with all the fancy lingo, Stiller? Just because you went to…*atmospheric fingers* 'high school'…

Ben- Alright! Okay, enough.

Derek- Enough? Now we're just making words… 


	12. The Anika Ball

_Jenie:_ Wow! Thanks for your review! Don't tell anyone what you think is going to happen with Jame's record, because that'd give it all away!

_E.C.R Potter:_ I'm very sorry if this chapter's not what you wanted. Please forgive me! I'll make it up later, don't worry! *note to self… make an effort NOT to give anything away in you're AN's!*

_En Shoe:_ Hey, everyone's entitled to his or her own opinion (not mine.) I don't hate you if you don't like Zoolander, don't worry! ^_^;

_DragonBlond 04:_ Great review! I'm glad you liked my other chapter! I'm seriously planning to not have _a lot_ of fluff, but there will be little hints here and there once in a while. Not much. I'm ignoring complaints in my inbox about how 'I'm a terrible writer for not putting fluff in here'. Completely and utterly ignoring them. ^_^;

_Max Lonewolf:_ You're cool! I could see your smile across from Toronto! Oh… by the way… I've just noticed the majority of my reviewers are Canadian…. WWWWAAAAAAHHHHHHHOOOOOOO! That's more than fine with me ^_^;

_Calistal:_ Thanks for your great review! I'm glad you liked my chapter! I hope this one is just as good!

_Lavender Weasley:_ Hello unknown person I have never met in my entire life…*snicker* Thanks for your review! Hope this chapter makes you smile!

**…~'*'~…**

"You look beautiful, Parvati!"

            "And you! You look so dreamy! Seamus will simply adore your dress!"

            "What about me? You don't think this flower is too colourful, do you?"

            "Oh, no, Ginny! It's perfect!"

            Hermione huffed. She wished she could jump out at her roommates and put a silencing charm on them. They all managed to get partners for the ball- Ginny with Neville, Lavender with Seamus and Parvati with a Hufflepuff boy Hermione had never spoken to in her life. She wondered if Parvati had either.

            "Your dress! It had a crease!"

            "Oh _no!_ Really? What do I do?"

            Hermione couldn't take it anymore. She forgot about the clasps on the back of her dress, which she couldn't fasten, walked out from behind her four-poster and approached them.

            "Will you all natter a little more quietly, please?" she hissed. They stared at her as if she had grown another head.

            "Where," gasped Parvati, "did you get that dress?"

            Hermione just realized that she was talking about the dress she was wearing, the one she got from Miss. Marmalade's. Ginny, who was holding the creased part of Lavender's dress, had her mouth open in admiration.

            "I got it at Miss. Marmalade's Fine and Not-So-Fine Robes," said Hermione, "She only had one of them."

            Parvati blinked a few times, her eyes traveling from the silky blue bottom of Hermione's dress to the thin, dainty straps. Then she came quite serious again.

            "Really?" she said skeptically, "I've never heard of such a place."

            Hermione rolled her eyes, "It's in Diagon Alley. Madam Malkin's was too busy, so I went to Miss. Marmalade's."

            "Who's that?"

            "The store owner!"

            Hermione sighed heavily, and sat on her bed, pulling on her blue high-heeled dress shoes. She hated wearing these, but anything else would look horrible with such an elegant dress. They made her feet hurt and she doubted she could dance properly.

            "So, you're going to the ball, then?" said Ginny in excitement, "So, tell us… who are you going with? Dean? Or one of the twins? No, it must be Justin-"

            "Harry!" snapped Hermione impatiently, "I'm going with Harry," she stood and felt the colour rising to her face, seeing all three of them staring at her, "You know, Harry Potter? The boy you always goggle at during the feasts?"

            Lavender nodded, her face pale.

            "Are you serious?" Parvati asked Hermione, a slight hint of jealousy in her voice, "I went to the Yule Ball with him, remember? He's an okay dancer, but the way he looks! He's really, really, _really _deadse-"

            "Enough!" hissed Hermione irritably, knowing what that particular sentence would end with, "I know he went to the Yule Ball with you lat year… and don't talk about him like that!"

             Ginny, Lavender and Parvati looked at each other for a brief moment, then back at Hermione. They had a hungry excited look in their eyes, and Hermione didn't like it at all.

            "You're dressed, but your hair! It's not done yet!" said Lavender.

            Hermione nodded. Her hair was the same way it always was– bushy and tangled. Whereas Ginny, Parvati and Lavender's hair was done in elegant knots with flowers intertwined in it.

            "Hermione… you're going with Harry Potter to the Ball! _The_ Harry Potter!"

            "I know," sighed Hermione dreamily, trying her hardest to fight that gorgeous image of Harry in his handsome dress robes, waiting for her at the bottom of the marble staircase, rose in hand.

            "And we're all ready! You do know what this means, don't you?" Lavender pressed on.

            Hermione folded her arms and huffed, "Could it possibly mean that you're going to help me, because you think I like Harry as much as you do?"

            "Yes!" cried Ginny happily, jumping up and clapping her hand together, her huge heels hitting the floor, "Well, no… b-but I used to… er… never mind! Let's get you fixed up!"

            "Someone get a comb!"

            "Where's my wand?"

            "I need a towel! Quickly!"

            The next moment was a blur to Hermione. She found herself being pushed into a chair and forced to keep her face straight and hands in her lap. Ginny, Parvati and Lavender were surrounding her, their heads and arms forming a wall so Hermione could no longer see her dorm. She felt her hair being pulled, her eyebrows being pinched and her fingernails being painted, and it was like she no longer could breath. She didn't dare open her eyes to see what they were doing to her.

            After Lavender managed to get all the tangles pulled out of her hair, Hermione found a diamond necklace being draped around her neck, and Parvati's voice was heard somewhere beside her, "I'll let you borrow this, but I want it back after the ball! _Ouch!_ Watch it, Ginny, you almost ruined my shoes!"

            Brushes ran through Hermione's hair, combs prodded her head, earrings were clipped onto her ears and hairspray was sprayed everywhere. Hermione could tell Lavender was having the worst time, being she was attempting to do the same to Hermione's hair what she had in hers.

            "I think I'm going to have to use an untangling charm," she whined, "This is just too hard!"

            Soon Hermione's hair was done and her nails were painted a cerulean colour. Parvati started applying peachy pink creams to her face and some things Hermione had never seen in her life.

            "What colour do you think is best?" said Ginny to Lavender as she held two lipsticks, "Peach frost or clear crystal?"

            "Oh… peach frost, I suppose."

            Hermione hated the smell and feeling of everything they were putting on her. Her lips, with tasted like fruits, were they only thing she could ever put up with. She was just about to get to her feet, unable to stay in one spot for much longer, but Parvati pushed her back in her seat again.

            "Stay put! We're almost finished!"

            Then, for what felt like and hour later for Hermione, Ginny let out a triumphant, "Ha! Finished!"

            Hermione shot out of her chair almost at once.

            "Great. Well thanks, but I'd really like to get rid of this rubbish now," she said, ready to head to the nearest sink, but she was steered to the full length mirror next to Lavender's four poster. There, Hermione stared at her reflection in amazement.

            She would never believe she was seeing herself, for there was a _gorgeous _girl staring back at her. She could have rivaled Fleur or Marindernia.

            Hermione's hair done up in an elegant knot with a few flowers of what looked like baby's breath in it. She face looked rosy and unmarked; not a hint of skin was left unmarked my sheer purity. Her lips blending with her skin and her eyes- her eyes were brightly exaggerated and extraordinarily striking. And her dress matched perfectly. Hermione thought for a moment, willing herself to believe her reflection was indeed mirroring her semblance

            "Your hair looks different, better than ours," said Lavender with bitterness, but she was smiling at how Hermione was momentarily wordless with her reflection, "I should have put a tangling charm on my hair too. It seemed to tame it quite a bit more." Ginny and Parvati nodded fervently beside her. 

            "Uh… thanks so much," mumbled Hermione absentmindedly, as she twirled around, her eyes not leaving the mirror, "I don't know what you did to me, but thanks."

            "That's the magic of cosmetics, Hermione, and you should use them more often," said Parvati as she retreated back to her four-poster to retrieve her small, studded purse.

            Hermione seriously doubted if she would ever wear whatever was on her face again. It seemed like it was a big sacrifice, wearing cosmetics for an entire day, and it would certainly make you miserable getting through it when all's said and done. But still, Hermione gazed at her reflection with watery adoration at what wouldn't possible live on after this night was over.

            "Uh… Hermione? We're about ten minutes late for the ball, you know," said Ginny as she hurriedly touched up her hair and arranged her necklace to her front. Hermione jumped, and that feeling of uneasiness dawned on her. She ran to her four-poster to retrieve her matching shawl. _This is it_, she thought to herself, _Harry's probably waiting at the foot of the stairs, calm and collected, while passing the time of opening the ball. _She seized her belongings, stuffed them in her trunk, laced up her shoes, and checked her reflection one last time. Then, with her stomach in knots, Hermione left the dorm with Lavender, Parvati and Ginny.

            While elegantly climbing down the stairs after her friends, Hermione could hear the chatting of four boys at the foot of the stairs; two laughing, one telling a joke, and the other telling the joker off. It was when Parvati heavily cleared her throat when all four of them turned around.

            Once Hermione rounded the slight turn, she could see Seamus, Neville, the 'unknown Hufflepuff boy' and Harry. They all beamed.

            "Our arrival is evident," said Lavender airily, waving a polished hand at her partner, "And you boys are looking very handsome."

            Hermione inhaled slowly, focusing on not loosing her footing on the stairs more than anything. When she felt her feet touchdown, she exhaled in relief. As her friends and their partners met and exited the common room, Hermione approached Harry. It was then when she trusted herself to look up, and her breath caught in her throat.

Harry did indeed look handsome- _very_ handsome. In his bottle green and black trimmed robes and his still messy back hair and bright green eyes, he smiled at Hermione widely, offering his arm with a soft, "You look gorgeous, Herm."

Hermione was too hindered with Harry's breathtaking aspect, and she didn't notice her mouth hanging open. She tried to smile, and when she did, she had a vague impression that it just didn't look proper. 

"T-thank you," said Hermione, thankful that all her makeup would no doubt cover her burning cheeks of embarrassment, "And you look very handsome."

Hermione slipped her arm through his, and suddenly, she didn't feel afraid anymore. What was with Harry's touch that made her feel so at ease? Her cheeks no longer burned and her stomach loosened and felt completely normal again. 

"You're tense," said Harry, looking down at her with eyes full of concern, "Calm down, alright? It's not the end of the world, you know."

This time, Hermione found it much easier to smile.

"Thanks, Harry. I feel alright."

"Ready?"

"More than ever."

They left the common room, pacing staring first years of all three houses, and down the corridor, to the entrance of the Grand Hall. With an exchanged nod, Harry and Hermione entered the Anika Ball.

Hermione could have thought that she had fallen asleep at that very moment, with Harry's arm laced in hers, for the Hall looked completely different, like a dream. Through the mass of many girls with their pink or blue or purple dresses and boys with their dark robes, Hermione could see hundreds upon hundreds of flowers everywhere, over the high ceiling, walls and the small stage at the front. White, misty light was shinning down somewhere up above, giving the room a cloudy sort of feeling, and as Harry and Hermione ventured further into the crowds, onto the spacious dancing floor amid the circle of tables, they saw an enormous angelic fountain of a mermaid with red water that could only be punch flowing from a flagon it held. 

Hermione jumped a little, hearing giggling above her head, and looked up to see a little pixy imitating her amazed stare, and when Hermione looked around, she realized the hall was full of them, trailing flower peddles as they went.

"The Hall looks beautiful, and all, but I bet they could do without the pixies," said Harry, swatting at the on above Hermione's head, "Argh! It bit me!"

Fred and George leapt at Harry from the crowd, and grabbed the struggling pixy by the legs. They had some sort of mad look, like they had struck gold. 

"Sorry 'bout that," said Fred, "We've been looking for these things everywhere for a prank, and since the teacher's not around-"

"-we decided now was the perfect time to swipe them," finished George, tucking the pixy into his front pocket, "Hey, Harry, is that your partner? Who's she?"

Hermione frowned at them and said, "You know perfectly well who I am!"

The twins raised their eyebrows, and stared.

"Hermione?" said Fred, peering closely at her, "Great wizards, you don't look like yourself! Wow!"

Hermione's cheeks burned, noticing a few people heard them, and they too, were staring at her. Harry grinned a little, and motioned Hermione to walk with him to a separate table than the others at the very front, where the champions were to sit.

"This is going to be _great_," muttered Hermione sarcastically as they passed many with staring eyes and open mouths, but, to Hermione's surprise, Harry had heard her.

"I know what you mean," he said quietly.

They walked by the orchestra, which were pearly-white ghosts, and the rose adorned tables, where Hermione could briefly see Parvati, Lavender, Ginny and their partners, all in which she nervously waved to, and sat at the high table next to Hagrid, who was beaming at the pair.

"So…" said Hagrid slyly, leaning closer to Harry, "You and Hermione hitting it off, eh?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at him as Hagrid chuckled with mirth, "No. We just didn't have partners, so we decided to go together, that's all."

Hermione pretended she didn't hear that. She busied herself with looking down the table at the champions and teachers.

On Hagrid's other side was Professor McGonagall, who was wearing robes of claret, and next to her was the misty-eyed and smiling face of Dumbledore wearing special robes of dark mauve with stars and moons upon them. Siamoen was just a riot beside him. He wore lilac robes with what looked like sequins hanging off the sleeves and a hat with illuminating pictures of flowers and fairies flashing intermittently. Then Tisroc Whin and his partner, who looked almost as mean as he did with her dress of blood red and dreadlocked hair, was sitting next to him. 

"These Hogwarts persons. I do not like them one bit. They are too happy for my liking," Hermione heard Whin's partner say with a strange brogue, "I do not that Harry Prodder also. Do you, Rocky?"

"Nah," said Whin carelessly, "Nor his fan club."

Hermione had a vague notion that Whin had known she was listening. She didn't dare look at them; she hoped they weren't watching her. Just to make it a bit less evident, she looked down the high table at the rest of the seats taken. Professor Kohl, who was looking very stunning in her robes of sparkling sapphire, was watching the little pixies wiz by her head with an impressed smile, and next to her sat Marindernia and Ron. 

Hermione looked twice and noticed they were having a great time. From what it looked like, Ron had told Marindernia one of his clichéd jokes that were only fit for the dim witted, and she apparently thought it was hilarious, the way she looked as though she'd fall off her chair in giggles. _No surprise there,_ thought Hermione savagely. The only good thing about Marindernia tonight was that she wasn't going to the Ball with Harry and she would keep Ron from pointing and laughing as he would watch Harry and Hermione elegantly glide across the dance floor.

"They look happy," said Harry cheerfully, following Hermione's gaze down the table. He waved at Ron, and he just as willingly waved back. Marindernia was too busy sophisticatedly waving her hand to her girlish Nockdernian friends in the mass of students before the High Table.

            Once everyone had taken a seat at the high table or with the students, Professor Siamoen stood, his pointed wizard's hat askew over his shiny, blonde hair.

"Welcome," he announced to the Hall, "to the Anika Ball!"

There was a round of courteous applause, waves of pinks and purples and blues stirring in the mass of students before the High Table around the dance floor.

"This is a time when you get to associate with your…er… _special_ acquaintance. Yes, I could put it that way," continued Siamoen with a jovial wink,

"Please feel free to eat, drink, chat, do whatever you fancy, within reason. The garden is open, may I remind you all!" he chuckled excitedly, and with another wink, motioned to the Champions at the High Table, "Our Champions, if you would please do the honors."

Then it was time for the part of the evening that Hermione had dreaded. The orchestra started a slow, desolate tune, misty lights of every colour from high above the ceiling shone light upon the dance floor, and the champions stood. Tisroc and his partner, who were quickly followed by Marindernia and Ron, left the High Table and sauntered over the dance floor. It was a wonder nobody lost their footing, but then Hermione reminded herself that nobody could possibly be anymore nervous than she was. As girls giggled and boys cat-called, Ron led Marindernia to the other side of the Hall while Whin and his partner stayed close to the front.

"W-we're supposed to dance, right?" Hermione said to Harry, her voice trembling in fear, "Let's go."

            As Hermione struggled to get out of her seat, Harry grabbed hold of her arm to stop her, "Herm, are you feeling alright?"

            Hermione tried to smile. It hurt, since it was strained and reluctant, and it seriously didn't look right. She swallowed, nodded, and allowed Harry to help her to her feet. Then they carefully walked down from the High Table, arm in arm, and onto the center of the dance floor. 

            Every eye was on them. The students and Professors at every table from all directions watched them and only them, since the other champions started dancing already. Dean Tomas, Lee Jordan and the twins were among the Hogwarts students, pointing and snickering. Hermione wished they'd disappear.

            "Herm, remember the Yule Ball?" said Harry as he gently placed a hand on her waist, "The way I danced?"

            Hermione smiled despite her trembling nerves, and nodded. 

            "Of course," she said, "and I don't think I'll be leading you around like that. I can barely control what I'm doing."

            Harry shook his head, smiling warmly down at her. Hermione was almost afraid of what he'd say next. Perhaps a compliment or even a corny joke that could lighten up her mood? Or he could insult her and tell that it was a mistake to ask her to go to the ball with him. But it was-

            "If I can do this, you can do it better."

            Hermione laughed… she _laughed!_ A few people's heads turned, and Hermione stopped at once. Clearly, many were taking this Ball very seriously. A few girls from Dryconderoga looked scandalized, staring at her.

            "Come on, Herm, let's do this," said Harry quietly, bending closely to her ear, "If you fall, I'll fall too and make it look like an accident, if you want. Just relax."

            And Hermione did. She draped an arm around his shoulder, her hand holding his, and Harry held her waist, this time with both hands. They started slowly revolving on the spot, ignoring the snickering boys.

            You know that feeling when you wake up and wonder if the convincing dream you had was real? That feeling was what Hermione felt. Surely the soft music and fluttering rose pedals were all imaginary. The soft hand holding Hermione's was sure to vanish when Hermione opened her eyes. But then she was suddenly aware that there was stirring around her. She opened her eyes and noticed that everyone had joined in the dancing. Students nervously approached the dance floors and started dancing with their partners. At the High Table, Dumbledore had asked Professor Kohl to dance, and she accepted. Soon they were waltzing together next to Siamoen and Professor McGonagall. Ginny and Neville, each looking terribly nervous, where stepping on each other's feet, pretending to enjoy themselves. Next to them was Lavender and Parvati with their partners. Soon enough, everyone was dancing, and Hermione realized this was most unlike a dream.

            Hermione laid her head on Harry's shoulder, smiling peacefully. This wasn't nearly as bad as she thought it would be. Last year was all right, being Victor Krum was leading and he was immensely admired. But she enjoyed Harry's company much more. Besides, she had known Victor Krum for only a month before they had actually spoken, whereas Hermione had known Harry for four wonderful years, and still counting. She had grown to like him and his friendly, caring behavior, and he had become some sort of a necessity to her.

            Harry and Hermione shared three complete dances to three different songs without releasing each other and not seeing the other champions. Then at the fourth song, they called it quits and walked to the tables, which were now laden with goblets and plates of food. They didn't get far until Ron, who was standing at the fountain, waved Harry over.

            "I'll be right back," said Harry, giving Hermione's hand a last squeeze. He left across the dance floor, walking around the students and teachers.

            "Hermione!" called a voice behind her. Hermione turned around to see none other than Marindernia, in her fancy pink evening dress, sitting at one of the tables. Hermione clenched her teeth, and forced down a curse she wanted so badly to scream at her. Instead, she walked up to her.

            "Sit down," offered Marindernia, "Ron's off to get us some drinks."  
            Hermione sat, but not willingly. She fought the urge to stand and run away, screaming threats. But since Harry was gone to talk to Ron halfway across the hall, she figured she'd look a bit suspicious.

            "Having fun?" asked Marindernia, and Hermione nodded, "I bet your Yule Ball wasn't as good as this. Ron told me all about it. About Victor Krum and you hitting it off then breaking up. It must be great to have two famous friends!" Hermione scowled.

            "Loads," she mumbled, but Marindernia missed the sarcasm. 

            "Say, did you see your headmaster dancing?" continued Marindernia, playing with her curled tresses, "He's a pretty quick man for his age, isn't he? Is he always like that? Well, he must be, since he defeated so many wizards before-"

            It was just like in the Leaky Cauldron, her babbling on and on and on, Hermione not paying any attention. One thought was clearly set in her head- _How could Ron like such a daft girl?_

            "-and then he said 'well, you're just a blonde, aren't you?', whatever that means… some people, huh? Never knowing what they're talking about…"

            Three different songs had gone by, and Marindernia hadn't stopped. That was until she said-

            "And about Harry Potter…"

            Hermione nearly knocked her goblet to the floor in surprise. She hurriedly smiled at Marindernia's confused face, and said, "Sorry, please continue."

            "Well," started Marindernia, "Harry Potter… isn't he such a gentleman? My gosh, I could go _on_ and _on_ about him!" she giggled furiously, "The way he looked in the second task…oh, I'm speechless! And I've read about him and the Dark Lord, how he's met him so many times!"

            Hermione stared at her with very wide eyes. Marindernia obviously didn't know that she was Harry's partner. Besides, she hadn't seen who was his partner the entire ball, being she was too busy with her girlish friends to notice Hermione sitting next to him. 

            "And he hates Whin, just like me! Isn't that grand? But, Hermione, Don't tell anyone this," Marindernia leaned in secretively, "I've had my eyes on him before I asked Ron to the Ball. Actually, I've liked him all year!"

            Hermione gasped, clapping a hand to her mouth in horror.

            "I know!" said Marindernia with a wide smile, "Isn't that crazy? But what's even crazier, I think Ron's found out! I bet he's telling Harry about it right now!"

            Hermione sat still for a moment, gasping for air and hardly daring to believe what she just heard. How on earth could this have happened? Sure, Marindernia had thrown some obvious hints in the wind, but who could have predicted this? How was Hermione going to compete with her?

            "Oh, enough about me!" said Marindernia happily, "What about you? Who's your partner?"

            Hermione gulped, ignored the fact that she felt like being sick, and answered, "Harry."

            Marindernia would most likely look horrified or pathetically sorry for saying too much. She'd probably beg for forgiveness and leave the Hall, but that was wide off the mark. In fact, she didn't anything of the sort- _she sneered._

            "I know."

            Hermione gapped at her in alarm. Without another word or any goodbye, she stood up and ran across the hall, pushing her way through dancing students to the doors. She threw them open and ran outside.

            The gardens were dark and the moon was barely visible through the clouds. Torches lit the winding paths throughout the rose bushes and the benches people were sitting at, keeping each other company. Hermione sniffed and stumbled down one of the paths, past shivering and giggling bushes.

            So Marindernia and Harry was destined for each other. What could be worse? Well, perhaps if Voldemort barged into the hall and killed everyone in sight. Or if he had brought all his useless, repulsive death eaters and managed to take over the world. No, this was worse. Much worse.

            Marindernia didn't care for Harry's well-being or assertiveness. All she care about, and Hermione was certain about this, was his looks. To like someone because they looked handsome? That was the worst thing you could possibly do to anyone, and Marendernia was living it up. She was the one who was selfish and hollow hearted. Hermione wondered what Harry must of thought about all of this, or if he knew at all. Ron would march up to him and tell him that such a beautiful girl liked him, but little both of them would know is that Harry would be a model. A mannequin for a sick girl who only had bad intensions.

            Hermione sat at an empty bench, a far ways off from the busied part of the garden. She thought she'd break down any moment; tears were slowly dripping down her cheeks. She folded her arms, truly wishing that she had brought a jacket, and waited for the night to be over. 

            "You've got to tell her!

            Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin- someone was coming. Wiping her eyes with her hands, Hermione hurriedly stood with a slightly hunched back, and slinked behind her bench among the rose bushes. There, she ducked and hid, her heart pounding out of her chest.

            "I can't! You know how it is! I'd like to see you do it!"

            Hermione found a place to peek through the bushes. A small opening that allowed her to just see the pathway and the bench. She looked watched through it to see who was coming, and she gasped to find… _Harry and Ron?_

            Yes, it was them. Looking tired and annoyed, they were walking down a nearby path, hands in their pockets in a leisurely fashion. Hermione caught a glimpse of Harry's face before he sat on the bench Hermione was at before. He looked very irritated and flustered. _Oh no_, thought Hermione in horror, _Ron told him!_

            "What am I going to do?" Harry asked Ron desperately, "She's probably waiting for me!"

            Ron threw his hands up in the air, "I don't know, Harry? D'you honestly think I have a lot of experience in stuff like this?"

            Hermione could tell Ron was just as befuddled as Harry was. His face was red and he looked as though he'd explode. He looked down at Harry, who buried his head in his hands in panic. 

            "She looked pretty sincere 'bout it all," he said more calmly, "And I'll be a monkey's uncle if you ruin this for her."

            Harry sighed, and said, "Listen, Ron. I'm not very good with this kind of stuff. D'you think I had time to think about love at the Dursleys? I never even knew what it was! This is all so new to me!" 

            Ron looked as though he finally realized that Harry was right, and he suddenly looked very somber. He knew how it was like at the Dursleys, Harry being treated like scum at the sole of your shoe.

            "Okay, Harry, I believe you," said Ron, "But maybe if you tell her you feel the same way, everything will turn out all right for you and her. Hey, if this is your first time, maybe it'll work out! I know she'd be much happier with you."

            Hermione had heard enough. She was going to explode into tears if she were to stay any longer. Before she knew what she was doing, she jumped up from her hiding place.

            "Well, lets get back inside-"

            But Ron couldn't finish as something flashed by his eyes. Hermione rushed out of the bushes, past Harry and Ron and started running as fast as she could down the path. She could just hear Harry gasp, "What? Who's that?"

            _"It's Hermione!"_ said Ron, sounding thunderstruck, but Hermione was already out of sight.

            The frantic shouts of her name were drowned out when Hermione entered the Hall. Without a backwards glance, she ran up the stairs to her dorm, tripping a few times. She ran all the way to the common room, past suits of armor and empty portraits. She only stopped in her dorm to collapse onto her four-poster, the very place where she realized that she had loved Harry all along. Now it was the place where she realized that her heart was broken.

            Hermione cried like she had never had before, regretting the day she met that boy. That boy who was no doubt the reason she'd stay in tears for the entire night. She opened her mouth and shouted the words she thought she'd never say in her entire life of knowing her best friend-

            _"I HATE HARRY POTTER!"_

**…~'*'~…******

**A/N:** I'm _so_ sorry… It had to be done… if any of you are thinking that you'll form a mob and hunt me down, just remember this isn't the end of this story. This is only a chapter. There's still lots more to go! Oh, and sorry this chapter took me sooo long. To make up for it, I've made this chapter better and longer than the last chapter by about 3000 words… and my hands are now swollen from typing. My sis was at a Birthday party, so I had some free time to myself… but then I decided to spend the night finishing this. Now I gotta catch some serious Z's….


	13. The Task of Agility

_The Dragon Master: _…er…um…no, Silversmith is _not_ gay… he's just a crazy, madcap lunatic who should be in a straightjacket at all times. 

_Legancy: _I'm glad you like the 'Harry with no glasses' picture. Everyone does, for some reason. Anyways, thanks for your review!

_E.C.R Potter:_ Sorry, I can't answer that… *shrugs*…*looks around aimlessly*…*hums a tune*… You'll have to find out if Harry and Ron were talking about Hermione later, now, wont you? Thanks for your review!

_Baby Angel Wow:_ Don't die! Here's the next chapter! *whew*

_Em:_ What would you think if you were in Herm's situation? Harry and Ron sounded pretty convincing, and Herm can't help it if she sounds like a complete airhead for misunderstanding everything. But after this chapter is done, Harry wont be able to…_ah, jeez_… I ALMOST GAVE IT AWAY! *jk*

_Jean L_: Bookmark away! I'll be happier! And I kind of end up making Harry grumpy and stressed out in all my stories… I wonder why that is… maybe because it's a good chance for Herm to comfort him *grin*

_ADJ:_ I'm sorry I had to make you wait. For my reasons, see at bottom of chapter. I can't wait for the next task(s) too! Yeah! Thanks for your review!

_HermioneHarry4ever:_ What an original name! I love it! And about Marindernia… I don't blame you for wanting to kill her! It even surprised me how cruel I've made her!

_Max Lonewolf:_ Hummm… should I resolve the Harry/Herm issue… I dunno… hehe. Just pulling your leg.

_Rarity88:_ What can I say? I'm an evil unpredictable person!

_En Shoe:_ I love my 'cliché' chapter. And you're right: 'I'm da boss', which makes me in power to whatever the trio do. For all you know, I could make Harry hitchhike across Europe, steal a taxi and smash into a tree. Or perhaps Hermione'll get arrested by the Ministry for the attempted murder of Harry Potter and be sentenced to life in Azkaban. Who knows? I'm unpredictable *sniker* So, thanks very much for you review! You rock!

_Calistal:_ I'll try to review your story! I know how it feel to not get as much reviews as you wanted, but just wait a bit longer! Thanks for your review!

_*I'd like to take this opportunity to tell readers that if you want the latest news on anything Harry Potter, including the Chamber of Secrets movie, visit this site regularly -- www.the-leaky-cauldron.org. I'm a very frequent visitor and they've got everything! They update all the time! That's where I found out that J.K.R verbally announced that Harry and Hermione would take a liking to each other in the fifth book. And most importantly, they gave me this link for some CoS stills of Tom Riddle in the movie (you'll need to cycle through them until you find it) -- http://www.rexfeatures.com/cgi-bin/rppshow0?k=HARRY+POTTER*_

**…~'*'~…**

It was a long way from the Quidditch pitch to the Grand Hall. It was a long way from walking from any point to any other in this castle. You'd take almost ten minutes to walk from one end of the school to another, in Dryconderoga, and it took longer when trying to reach the staircase while dodging bats flying around your head and streamers being thrown at you. It was Halloween. Tisroc Whin wished it wasn't like that. It was his school, his pride and honor, but Tisroc couldn't afford to waste any time. He needed to sneak in a few hours of practice every day after classes, then nearly all day on weekends. It was a necessity… at this time.

            While Tisroc was left to do his basic training on the pitch without any interference, the Dryconderoga students would be having lunch inside the castle, talking and laughing. And the Nockdernian students would be there too. So would those wretched Hogwarts blokes. Why did Siamoen ask that old man if his school wanted to participate? And why did he agree? Wasn't one tournament they won enough? They were going to ruin it for him.

            And perhaps no one could ruin it for the champion of Dryconderoga. Practice he did, but there was no appearance of that famous sob story kid. He was the one who won it for Hogwarts before. He was ignorant, thinking he would win again. But perchance he wouldn't win this tournament. He was a walking Quidditch trophy, from what Tisroc heard from a few of his friends who were actually associating with those Hogwarts inferior. He was a kid who had naturally born talent, like he was plucked from the very field of experts. So what? Tisroc had done the same things he had, winning the Quidditch cup for his school for years now. But who thinks one could do well if one did not practice?   

            In the chilly, breezy mornings, Tisroc would kick off, broom securely gripped in both hands with his arms just slightly bent, making sure his elbows were at a precise angle and his knees just below him at an professional position. He flew around the pitch akin to the experts do on his homeland team, with his warm furs wrapped around him to shelter himself from the cold. He shot down the pitch in a rush of wind, his robes trailing behind him, as he shot up to the sky and rocketed upwards. Up, up he went, towering above the castle, and with an effortless twist of his wrist, he plummeted back down again, his cheeks burning from the wind hitting his face. And, a foot from the ground, he came to a faultless halt. He was sure that famous fan club loving kid couldn't do that. That took years of experience. 

            There was no question. Tisroc was going to win this. The other champions were just inferior. Bugs that he'd just longed to squish. Besides, neither of the champions were up to it. One hadn't cared to pick up his broom and the other simply didn't bother for such a thing (that was just the person they were). But Tisroc had became terribly fond of his broom, just like he could believe it had a mind of it's own that he could understand. Besides, substandard people were not equivalent to what Tisroc could do with his broom.

            And that had solidified it. It didn't matter. Ever since the Anika Ball, the one champion, the one who had so many admirers and haters, the kid who'd been hanging around riffraff ever since Tisroc had seen him, was looking pretty miserable the next day. He didn't even come to the Grand Hall or, like always, the Quidditch pitch that morning on Halloween. Maybe there was nothing to this renowned boy after all…

**…~'*'~…**

It was the day of the second task. Who knew what it was going to be? The champions, the Professors, the Headmasters and Headmistress… but that was it. It was no wonder students were waiting outside classroom doors for their friends to finish classes and first years would squeal in excitement whenever they spoke of the champions. For some, it was a chance of a lifetime. To see three rival schools compete in such an event as the Tournament of Demontarity was a very rare thing. Who knows? If a champion ends up dead, it could be the last Tournament for years.

            Some had real enmity. People who would chance a shot at winning one over their enemy felt such a _rewarding _feeling. Like your first dueling lesson that you triumphed over or the time when you knew the answer to the question 'what would happen if you added powdered root of a thistle shrub with the essence of a cave bat?' in class and you showed your class you weren't such a ridiculous person after all. Yes, it would be such a pleasant feeling, just to know your school won such a big event.

            Hermione woke up in that same atmosphere of competition, with her gown still on and her pillowcase covered in her old makeup form last night. She felt like an overshadowing disappointment that hadn't seen the light of day, plainly, for last night was still heavily burning in her mind. But when she had waited for Lavender, Ginny and Parvati to leave, she changed and took off her ridiculous excuse of a pair of shoes. Then she wiped off the messy, revolting, ugly, needless and wasted load of whatever was on her face with handful of tissues. There. No evidence of what happened last night.

            She packed away her gorgeous gown at the bottom of her trunk along with her shoes and straightened up. She really needed to work on the self-assurance thing. And making sure she looks like a bright ray of sunshine when really, she wanted to stay in her dorm for eternity. She sighed, smiled, and left the girl's dorms on the search for Ron, dearly hoping Harry wasn't with him.

            The common room was decorated for Halloween. Their were bats flying well above the ground, making little first years scream in terror. Orange and black streamers tripped the tables and chairs and staircases, while a colour-matching ball of light hovered above the tall room, casting an eerie glow over everything. Even several Hagrid-sized pumpkins and jack-o'-lanterns were sitting along the walls, but they were completely filled with candy corn and creamy toffees. Hermione had to admit, they did do the decorations differently here than at Hogwarts.

            Hermione saw that a few first years were sitting in the corner, playing exploding snap, but looking at their watches every now and then. Some were drinking huge goblets of a foreign drink that had smoke whipping out of it, while playing chess. Most were sitting on the chairs and talking and all were eager for the grandfather clock to chime noon.

            Hermione picked up her speed, hoping nobody would stop her, and she was lucky. Everyone was too fascinated by the sweets-filled pumpkins to care, anyways.

            The Grand Hall was decorated similar to the common room, but everything was twice its size. Bats the length of broomsticks were soaring above the long tables and there was about three enormous balls of light hovering above each table. They still had the pumpkins, but they weren't filled with sweets. No, they were sitting on the tables on huge platters along with the foreign, steaming beverages. At least the fountain, the small tables, the stage and pixies were gone. Even more reassurance that last night didn't exist.

As Hermione looked around, she saw, unsurprisingly, Ron sitting at the Hogwarts table, a bowl of candy corn in front of him and a smug grin on his face. Hermione sighed in relief. At least Harry wasn't there.

            "Hermione!" he gasped, "There you are! I was looking _all_ _over_ for you!"

            Hermione approached him with a frown, and said, "Yeah right. And I'm Urhlish the unlucky."

            Ron shoved a couple more handfuls of sweets into his mouth, and pushed the bowl away from him. He picked up a stack of toast he'd saved, and handed them to Hermione.

            "Thanks," mumbled Hermione, accepting them.

            "What was with you last night? You ran past me and Harry before we could say anything!" said Ron furiously, standing up and staring at her.

            Hermione had to think fast. An excuse. She needed an excuse. A good one that even Ron, who had experience in making excuses himself, would believe.

            "I thought I was going to be sick, that's all," said Hermione convincingly, "I had a bit too much punch."

            Ron blinked, "You didn't have any _at all!" _he sighed heavily, shook his head and said, "Harry has his task coming up in almost half an hour. I don't know what's wrong with you, but you better well pull yourself together! Harry's expecting you to be there, and he hasn't been looking too well since last night. He just left… without any breakfast!"

            Hermione felt a prang of guilt, but paid attention to Ron's foolhardy lecture anyways. It was partly because she somehow made out that Harry had known something that wasn't true and that she had lied very badly. But perhaps she could make this work.

            "Ron, sorry, but I came down to tell you that I can't make it," sighed Hermione, "I still feel kind of… uh… queasy.I'm really sorry."

            "Don't say sorry to me, say sorry to Harry!" snapped Ron hotly, "But you do look kind of ill. Maybe you should tell Dumbledore or someone."

            "I will, Ron," said Hermione, trying her hardest to fake a cough and not seem too pathetic, "Apologize to Harry for me, will you?"

            Ron grabbed one last handful of candy corn, stuffed them into his pocket and took is coat that was lying next to him, "I will. See you!"

            Hermione lamely waved at him, and once Tisroc Whin, who was wearing heavy furs and carrying a broom, slouched inside, Ron had left through the doors to the chilly outside. Hermione sighed in relief. At least she didn't need to leave the castle. Heck, she didn't need to leave her dorm. But forget about telling Dumbledore that she was 'sick'. She was sure he wouldn't let her stay in the castle, and he'd obviously be a little curious.

            Hermione slowly walked down the corridor that led back to her dorm, munching on the toast Ron had given her. For such an ill person, she ate it quite quickly. But she was hungry and she left the ball last night before eating anything at all. Once she was finished and brushed her hands off of crumbs, she checked her watch. Ten more minutes before everyone came barreling down the corridors. Wait a moment. Make that one.

            Hermione jumped, hearing hundreds of excited voices, and they were just around the end of the corridor. It was, no doubt, the students hurrying to the second task. Hermione, eyes wide, franticly looked around. She found an empty classroom. Making up her mind before the horde of excited Hogwarts students traipsed over her, Hermione darted for the door, threw it open, and hurried inside.

            The students, some shrieking with excitement and shouting for their friends to hurry up, passed right by Hermione's hiding place without noticing her. And then the thunderous sound of hundreds of feet had passed, and disappeared down the corridor. Hermione sighed in relief. Surely, is she had been found, her friends would have been tugging on her to follow. And then she'd have to watch Harry, looking positively miserable, competing in the task, whatever that was. But Hermione could watch the task from afar. 

            Hermione turned and scanned the classroom she was in. It was very old and dusty, looking almost like the unused classrooms she had been in at Hogwarts, the ones she and Harry had been in at midnight, practicing spells and charms. Selves lined the room, all filled with old, worn books. A dozen desks lay upturned to the side behind a very tattered teacher's desk at the front of the room, and the curtains, which were covering the window that revealed the grounds, were torn to shreds. It almost reminded Hermione of the shrieking shack her and Harry needed to enter with the purpose of finding Ron before a man-hungry monster of a dog (who was really harmless Sirius Black) devoured him. Even though that thought frightened her, she just had to raise her eyebrows in surprise: why did everything have to end up with Harry being mentioned?

            Hermione crossed the room, leaving the outlines of her footprints on the filthy ground as she walked. She peeled back the shabby curtains and looked outside. It was just as she thought; the task was just outside.

            All the way down on the ground, Hermione saw hundreds of onlookers and bystanders and Professors and reporters who were assembling along the long, twisting rivulet, all looking excited. At least Hermione thought they looked excited, she was too far up to tell. Towering high above them was the booth that held the judges, all Professors Dumbledore, Kohl and Siamoen. And there, on the right of the wide stream, was the champions. All three of them, wearing thick robes and clutching brooms… _brooms?_ _Why on earth would they need brooms?_

            Hermione stared at Harry, intrigued. He was, undoubtedly, wearing his Gryffindor Quidditch robes, judging by the crimson apparel. And unfortunately, Hermione couldn't really tell if he looked upset or not. One thing was for sure: he must be looking nervous.

            Hermione watched in amazement as the same man who refereed the first task marched up to stand next to the champions, his gold robes blowing in the cold, October breeze. He motioned for the champions to mount their brooms. And the next moment, the feeble tweet of the whistle was lost in the roar of the crowd lining the waterway as the champions kicked off and rocketed forwards down the stream. Tisroc was in the lead.

            Hermione knew she had promised herself that she wouldn't watch the task, but Harry was easily the best flyer in Hogwarts, and he was falling behind… not that she cared. And she could no longer see the competition; the champions had flown so far up that they were not seeable through her window. _Oh, great wizards,_ thought Hermione franticly. She roughly replaced the ripped curtains and looked around the old classroom. There had to be another window.

            Then Hermione saw something she hadn't before. There was an additional door at the back of the classroom that stood open a tiny crack, and light was shinning from it. Not wasting any time, Hermione bolted for the door as quick as she could without tripping over the loose floorboards and upturned desks, and wrenched it open. She peered inside.

            Hermione very well expected to step inside a room beset with more desks and chairs, perhaps a few crates of old books lying on the ground, but she didn't. But one thing was certain, she did see light. But the light wasn't coming from a window that should have been showing three students barreling down a rivulet bordered with bystanders. Instead, there were no windows by any means, and Hermione hadn't expected the source of light, not in all her wildest dreams, to be coming from what she saw.

            _Marindernia. _Hermione's heart stopped beating as she stared at the bizarre scene in front of her. It was no question to who it was: the third champion. She was hovering in mid air, in the center of the room, her back to Hermione, only a few inches from the ground. Strangely as it seemed, her figure was spread out looking as though it were about to be sucked into a portal. Her long, silver hair reached out behind her, being held up by some hidden force, and from her angelic gleaming figure came light. It was bright, magnificent light, thinning out from the tips of Marindernia's fingers to the ends of her feet. She looked as though she was hypnotized.

            Hermione loathed Marindernia dearly, but she was smart to know that this was not normal behavior at all. Sure, she'd seen dragons, werewolves, centaurs and deathly creatures, but in her entire life, she had never seen anyone behave this oddly without being controlled by some severe dark magic. And if Marindernia were caught looking like this, everyone would surely point reproachful fingers at the one who saw her last. So, making up her mind, Hermione swallowed hard, and carefully stepped further inside the room.

            "Marindernia?" whispered Hermione hesitantly, trying to look at her face, "Aren't you supposed to be in the task, Marindern-"

            She shrieked in surprise, for the body of Marindernia began to stir. She started to rotate very slowly, her feet still not touching the ground and the light not fading. She stopped where Hermione realized her eyes were closed, which was directly in front of her. Hermione stepped back a little, her eyes wide, as the light emitting from her body turned a horrible, deathly red. Then something started to swirl beneath her; it looked like flames. The angelic Marindernia was consumed, and now an evil form had taken her place. This was unquestionably more than what Hermione had bargained for.

            Hermione was so frightened she couldn't move. Marindernia's flowing hair caught an unseen gust of wind, and soon, her blood-red robes started to waft in a vigorous breeze. It was like a storm indoors, and Hermione was caught in the middle of it. Surely there was dark magic around, controlling Marindernia. That was definite when, as is nothing could frighten Hermione more, Marindernia did something unexpected. As if she sensed Hermione's horror, she lobbed her head back, and her eyes snapped open. She stared at the ceiling, and Hermione could see something that created fear beyond anything she had felt- her eyes were a glowing, inhuman, repulsive red, like the colour of the swirls of flames beneath her. Hermione knew nobody who had eyes like that, but Harry did. Marindernia had purple eyes, not red. Certainly not a red that looked so bloodcurdling it hurt.

            Hermione was so sidetracked by Marindernia that she hadn't noticed that the books from the shelves around the walls were falling to the ground. The red light from Marindernia mixed with the filth and soon, a storm of dust was swirling around Marindernia's form. Hermione had to cover her eyes with her hands with the purpose of watching, and she needed to keep her robes down so they wouldn't block her view. But she was beginning to think seeing this wasn't such a good idea after all.

            Perhaps it was because of that unseen force that held Marindernia so gently that her arms slowly started to drift apart. Hermione gawked in astonishment at what she saw. Then what she heard. Marendernia was… singing? No. Hermione listened closer, and realized her lips were moving to form some sort of mumble that she couldn't understand. It was ghostly and deep and incredibly cold, most unlike Marindernia's original voice. In fact, it sounded like a man's voice, but the language was something Hermione could not distinguish. It was so foreign, so inhuman, like its creator abandoned it. 

            Hermione had come to realize that this was definitely not a place for her. The task would be over soon, with a replica Marindernia of some sort crossing the finish line. She had to tell somebody. She'd do something she was originally going to do, and that would be to talk to Dumbledore.

            Hermione gulped uneasily, and while trying her hardest to block the constant mumbling of Marindernia and the fact that it seemed to be getting louder, stepped to the side once. Nothing. She stepped again. No reaction. Hermione dashed for the door.

            That was too much for whatever was controlling Marindernia. Hermione found herself being pulled back with what felt like air, and she hit the bookshelf with a loud thud. She screamed. Marindernia was looking at her, her red eyes unswervingly narrowed and a grimace on her lips. She looked infuriated.

"DÉJEME O MUERA!" she shouted at Hermione in a thunderous voice, "AHORA!"

Hermione could take a hint. She scrambled to her feet, and dashed for the door. Her heart pounding and not looking back, she ran as fast as she could across the classroom and out the door. She ran into no one as she raced down the corridor and into the Grand Hall. She needed to find Dumbledore right away, to tell him that one of the Champions couldn't possibly be real… could they?

Hermione pushed open the Grand Hall doors to find everyone on the grounds bordering the rivulet, the students, professors and reporters all applauding and screaming in triumph excitedly. The judges were back on the ground and they were congratulating the Champions, who were being attacked by students. The task was over, and Hermione had caught only the ending of it.

Nevertheless, Hermione ran down the lawn to the horde of people to the judges. She pushed her way through students, but it was no easy task. With that many students pressing in on her, it was hard to move. Elbows grazed her face and screaming stung her ears until she had enough.

"Professor Dumbledore!" she called franticly through the crowd, "Where's Dumbledore? PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE!"

Everyone looked around to look a her. Dean and Seamus stared at her as if she were mad and the commotion had stopped. Tisroc, who as wearing his house Quidditch robes and holding his broom under one arm, was being hugged by the girl he had as his partner for the ball. Tisroc was looking very weary, and neither of them looked pleased. He scowled at Hermione.

"Miss Granger," came a voice that floated over the crowd, which was now departing, "Whatever is the matter?"

Dumbledore emerged from the crowd, smiling very widely and eyes shinning. Hermione gasped, and ran for him.

"Professor," she panted, not aware that everyone was watching them, "Marindernia! I saw her in one of the classrooms! She's acting very strange, and she's mumbling and all red! You have to see her!"

She seized Dumbledore's wrist and began to pull him to the castle, but, for such an old man, he kindly resisted. Hermione looked up at him with alarm.

"Miss Granger, Marindernia was competing in the task all along," said Dumbledore with mild concern, "She competed to the end."

Hermione shook her head furiously and said, "No, Professor, I saw her! I did!"

"Are you _mad?_ She was here a moment ago!" said a Nockdernian boy with an incredulous glower, "She just went up to the castle because she was upset she got third!"

Hermione stared at him, then she looked around at everyone else. She was being stared at from all angles and none of them looked impressed. Most of them almost certainly though she was trying to rob them of their champion's place. Hermione shook her head again, and was about to say something until Dumbledore interrupted her.

"If you like, Hermione, I will happily fill you in on the task, if you need proof," he told her calmly, "Everyone did very well."

Hermione embarrassedly released Dumbledore's boney wrist, her cheeks blushing brilliantly. 

"No, that's… it's okay," she mumbled quietly.

"Are you sure you'll be all right, Hermione?"

"Yes, I'll be fine."

Dumbledore didn't look convinced, but he let it go anyways. He smiled and said, "Congratulations, everyone! You did well, if you competing or not. You've demonstrated your school pride very well!"

And Siamoen jovially waved for everyone to come back inside. Hermione watched as everyone passed her, some giving her dirty looks and some laughing at her. Fred and George gave her a thumbs up and said, "good prank!" And Hermione saw someone that made her heart sink to her feet; Harry slouched by with Ron, who hadn't realized Hermione was standing there, still wearing his Quidditch robes and carrying his Firebolt. His hair was drenched and his eyes were red. He side glanced at Hermione. She could have sworn she saw a bit of concern flash by his expression.

Hermione was left to walk up to the castle alone, and she started to think. Perhaps what she had seen was just a Halloween prank that someone had done. Yes, that must have been it, because it surely did scare the daylights out of her. It would surely live up to the expectations of a Halloween prank. But where did all that light come from? What was with the foreign language that Hermione had never heard of before? Someone must have translated it, thought Hermione. She at least thought it was _sensible. _But she would never know. She'd never go back into that classroom ever again.

**…~'*'~…**

Hermione stayed squished into a chair in the common room that night. She was reading the book Harry had bought her at Diagon Alley. Of course, she didn't want people to know that she was, so she hid her _Updated Version of Hogwarts and History_ in the spine of another book as she read. It looked very convincing, and since nobody came to talk to her or greeted her, she didn't need to hide anything. She had read over a hundred pages too, but amazingly, she could have read about a hundred more if her mind wasn't on other things.

Most of all, she really wished she had seen the second task. She regretted lying to Ron and Harry, both in which hadn't said a word to her. They obviously had been mad at her, and the reason was obvious. Hermione had been acting like a real idiot. You might even say she'd been pulling a Malfoy, lying fiendishly and plotting against them. In fact, that was exactly what Malfoy would do to her Harry and Ron regularly. That was terrible, and it took long enough for Hermione to realize it. 

So, without anyone to talk to, Hermione was left to mull over by herself with a book she wasn't really reading. The only time she had looked up was when the entire Common room had gone into hysterics, only to see that Harry was crossing the room to the exit, and that was about an hour ago. He hadn't even noticed Hermione sitting unaccompanied, nor had he came back yet. Perhaps he was going to take a stroll around the grounds, Hermione didn't know. Just as long as he didn't cross the old, dusty classroom Hermione had been in that day on the way back.

Meanwhile, Hermione's classmates were having a great time. Fred and George had yelled, "We'll start the party once we get the… _provisions"_ over the sea of heads earlier, and they slipped out to find food with a few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Soon after, they all came back with platters after platters of sweets and drinks. They were celebrating the completion of the second task, but they hadn't celebrated this much last year in the tournament. It must have been because they had waited a long time to celebrate this greatly. 

But Hermione had no desire to take part in the festivities. Even though it was Halloween and the candy corn was great, she had never really participated in any carousing at Hogwarts. Most of the merriment was because the Gryffindor Quidditch team had won against Slytherin in a match or because Harry had outdone himself with his flying tactics, like he always had. But this, for some reason, was exaggerating it all. As the party went on, Hermione realized that never have the Hogwarts students been so loud or reckless in all the years Hermione had watched them. There was no reason for that that Hermione could think of, unless they knew something she didn't.

The hours went by and Hermione hadn't seen Harry walk back inside the Common room. The others had seemed to get worried, but that didn't mean that they'd stop celebrating. Harry wouldn't take that long to just take a short walk around the castle. He'd done that many times at Hogwarts, but he'd never take this long. Hermione sat up, closed her book and put it in her lap. She just stared across the room at the door that Harry should have walked through long ago. Clearly, nobody was concerned as much as Hermione was. It was oblivious to her and others that they'd all comprehend that having their Champion away for so long was very, _very_ bad news.

Soon, Hermione and others had paid more attention to the door. Some had quit celebrating and sat on the floor to watch Fred and George juggle candy corns. All of Harry's good friends had been muttering to themselves and shaking their heads, apparently wondering which one of them would go look for Harry. But they didn't need to. Harry was coming to them, and so was someone only Hermione had ever seen.

Something was indistinctly heard that didn't fit into the atmosphere of the common room at all- shouting. It was just behind the entrance of the common room, and it didn't sound at all festive. Neville had dropped his goblet with a clatter in shock when he heard it. A few first years jumped and clambered across their chessboards in fright. Hermione jumped to her feet, her heart racing.

"What was _that?"_ gasped Ron, who had just reached the bottom of the spiral staircase from his dorm. 

All eyes were on the door, all ears were listening sharply and there was no breathing. The shouting started again, but it was closer this time. It sounded so painful, and as she listened, Hermione found herself wondering if she had heard it before. It seemed as though Ron had. He gasped in alarm, his face pale under his freckles, and ran through the group of students to the door. Hermione had a feeling this was bad. She put her book on her seat and followed him.

_"Argh,_ they're _both_ mad!" yelled someone in frustration as Ron wrenched open the door and ran into the corridor.

            Nobody followed Ron and Hermione into the corridor; they all lingered back in the common room, waiting. And as Hermione came to a halt not too far from the door, she wished she were with them. Her fears had been confirmed.

            It was the same thing she had seen earlier during the second task. The same floating figure, the same bloody robes and the same deathly red eyes. It was Marindernia, still looking evil and feral. She hadn't changed at all except for the fact that she was transparent like a ghost. But she was the least of her worries. She had somebody with her, someone she was towering over and that person was supposed to be lounging and celebrating with the rest of the Hogwarts scholars. 

            Harry Potter. Hermione shrieked in horror. Marindernia had done something appalling to him. He was at the bottom of the wall, his robes in tatters and covered in red. His face was red. His legs were red. He looked lifeless. 

            Ron reacted immediately.

            "HEY!" he shouted furiously, waving his arms around franticly but not advancing towards her, "GET AWAY FROM HIM!"

            Marindernia sharply turned in midair to look at him with her red eyes. Ron stepped back in fright, apparently realizing that the 'ghost' was his partner to the Anika Ball and the fact that was a foot from the ground. Marindernia maliciously sneered at him.

            "You are weak to me!" she shouted wrathfully.

            It was the same voice but in English this time. Ron didn't know what she meant, but he looked scared out of his mind. Before neither of them understood what she was doing, Marindernia raised her hands and put them in front of her, palms raised. She cackled in triumph, and at the same time, she did something Ron and Hermione thought was impossible. She produced a small orb of light in her palms, red in colour and looking like a fireball. It was undeniably Dark Magic. The ball of light was small, then it began to grow in size. Soon it was the size of a quaffle, red and fiery. She raised her palms to Ron.

            "ARGH!" yelled Ron, throwing his arms over his head, cowering like a mistreated dog. Hermione shrieked and recoiled next to the door.

            He and Hermione were surprised when Marindernia laughed deeply again. She had tricked them. Ron peered through the fingers of his hands covering his horrified face. Hermione looked up to find Marindernia instead facing her palms to Harry at the bottom of the wall. He didn't deserve what he was about to get. He had enough pain from her magic and tricks.

            But neither Hermione nor Ron could stop her. She shrieked a command Hermione had never heard of and there was a blinding explosion of light. 

            "HARRY!" screamed Hermione in terror, trying to shield the light from her eyes while looking around.

"Get down!" shouted Ron.

But she couldn't wait. She struggled, but Ron was holding her down. Tears stung her eyes as she heard Harry's howls of pain. She felt his struggle flowing through her too. It was unbearable, but with Ron and the light, there was a space there to keep her away from him. She found herself hating her antics, her harsh words and ignorance to Harry. Now there might not be any Harry left to say sorry to.  

            It was over as fast has it had began. The light faded all together and Harry was silent again. Hermione felt the weight of Ron leave her and she raised her head. Marindernia had disappeared, but laying face down in the middle of the corridor was Harry, his arms and legs resting in odd positions. Hermione yelped and scrambled to him on her hands and knees. Ron followed her.

            It was the worst thing Hermione had ever seen in her life, as Ron had turned Harry's unconscious body on his back. Harry's head was bleeding, his arms were deeply cut and several deep gashes had blossomed onto his skin. His robes were saturated with blood. 

            "Hermione," said Ron faintly as he watched Harry's pale face with terrified eyes, "Go find Dumbledore," he waited a moment, "Hermione, I'll stay with him. Go find Dumbledore. Please."

            Hermione pulled herself together. She had to do what she had done before, but this time, people would accept this as truth and not think she was out of her mind. She nodded, her eyes stinging with pain from the tears she was trying ever so hard to suppress. Ron tried to say good luck, but couldn't find his voice. Hermione understood. She patted his arm, took one more look at Harry and pulled herself up.

            Hermione ran. She ran like she thought she never could, down the long corridors and past alarmed Dryconderoga students. It was time to be there for Harry, even if he was unconscious or dead. Hermione could show herself what she could do and test herself what her strengths were. She had already realized her genuine fondness for Harry could push her to limits that she and other could never imagine. Her tears trailed behind her and her hair whipped at her cheeks. Her legs felt strange, like they were screaming in protest, but she couldn't stop.

            She had reached the Grand Hall and still no sign of Dumbledore. Only a few students playing exploding snap occupied the room. Hermione ran down the staircase, tripping a few times but keeping her footing, and desperately looked around.

            "Pro-Professor Dumbledore!" she shouted urgently, causing several students to stare at her.

            "Miss Granger, another problem?"

            Hermione spun around to find Dumbledore and Siamoen smiling behind her. She had never felt so happy to see them.

            "Professor," gasped Hermione hurriedly, "Harry, he's been hurt! Marindernia did something to him, I saw her! But it wasn't really her, and she used dark magic and-"

            "Hermione, please slow down," said Dumbledore in concern, looking as though her truly believed what she was saying, "I don't understand what you're saying."

            Hermione sighed uneasily and said, "Harry's been hurt really badly. Ron and I found him with Marindernia. She used dark Magic on him or something."

            Dumbledore did some quick thinking. Siamoen looked genuinely shocked. The students in the hall were aware that something was wrong; they stared at the three of them with interest.

            "Where is he?" Dumbledore asked Hermione without that happy twinkle in his eyes. 

            "Outside the common room," answered Hermione hurriedly, "Nobody was with him but Marindernia."

            Dumbledore nodded, turned to Siamoen, "Perhaps you should tell your students to remain in your common rooms?"

            Siamoen shook his pale head, looking rather eager, "It's been done, Albus. I'll accompany you for assistance."

            So with a rush of wind, Dumbledore swept up his robes and started climbing the stairs alongside Hermione, Siamoen panting behind them. Hermione noticed Dumbledore was quick for such an old man, and Hermione almost needed to run to keep up with him. They reached the top of the stairs and hurried down the corridor.

            Hermione found the way to the common room a lot longer than when she ran to the Grand Hall. Perhaps it was because she knew what was near the common room and was too afraid to find it. But like it or not, she was so close to the common room now that she could feel Harry cold presence or the absence of it. Hermione, Dumbledore and Siamoen turned a corner and rushed up the last corridor. Hermione's heart was pounding out of her chest.

            Then they saw what they had been looking for. Ron was no longer alone with Harry's limp body; Seamus, Dean and Neville were there, watching as Siamoen, Dumbledore and Hermione approached with agonizing expressions. Neville looked as though he'd burst into tears… and Harry was lying before them, unmoving like he was before.

            As Hermione approached, Ron looked up. He sighed in relief and said, "What took you so long?"

            _"Good lord,"_ wheezed Siamoen in astonishment, a hand over his mouth as she spotted Harry, "The poor lad."

            Dumbledore looked forlorn, and it hurt Hermione to she him like that. He normally looked so cheerful and bright. He bent down next to Harry's body and examined him, checking his pulse and inspecting his burns and cuts. Siamoen stood gawking and stuttering helplessly nearby.

            "How is he?" asked Seamus eagerly. Dumbledore didn't answer. He put his hands on his knees, thinking. Then he stood up.

            "Y-you can bring him into the infirmary," suggested Siamoen carefully, "Our nurse should be up."

            Dumbledore nodded, and took out his wand. With a small wave, he conjured a stretched and delicately lifted Harry onto it with his wand. Hermione felt a stab in her stomach watching Harry rise from the ground. His blood-covered hands fell futilely off the sides and his head lolled back as if his neck were damaged. She felt a tear stream down her cheek.

            "I will bring him there," said Dumbledore, "Meanwhile, you all should go to your dorms."  
            "How can we?" protested Dean savagely, "Harry's our friend!"

            The man who never feared the fearful was hurt. Dumbledore didn't say a word. Maybe he couldn't find the words, but he waved he hand in a passive manner and hurried down the corridor, directing Harry along in front of him and Siamoen at his heels. Once they left, nobody said anything. They were all too frightened to say anything, and Hermione was just about ready to burst into tears, but she held it all back. Neville didn't bother to.

            "I hate t-this tournament!" he bawled, "I hate this school! And I hate P-Professor Dum-Dumbledore!" he turned around, face in his hands, opened the door and ran inside the common room, positively howling now. But nobody was up to running after him and attempting to cheer him up; that was Harry's job. Nice, gracious and kind Harry Potter who wouldn't hurt a fly. Hermione shook her head, her head casting down to the ground, and walked through the door too, tears streaming down her face.

**…~'*'~…******

**A/N:** Okay, first off… I'm SO SORRY! It had to be done, same with the 'issues' in the last chapter! But don't worry your pretty heads! I've got good ideas for the next chapter! Secondly, sorry if this is a bit late. Things to do, you know, like watch the Leafs loose every bloody game and homework. Lots and lots of homework… *sigh*… well, school is almost over, and the Harry Potter DVD is coming out in 4 days! Yeah! Thirdly, I'd like to thank all my reviewers! You're awesomely cool! And fourthy, since I can't think of anything and this is totally off topic… _what_ is _with_ the _weather?_ Last weekend it was supposed to be around 30 degrees and it turned out to be 5 all week! ARGH! And all those record breaking temperatures in the States! Bloody hell, I think I'm going to get sucked into a hurricane or something. I can't wait till next winter… maybe it'll be a high of 35! *Note: I love to ramble*

Don't forget to but the Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone DVD and never underestimate the power of a man who drinks Molson and his pet beaver! 

                                                                                                                                                                                   -Love, Lady Darkshine


	14. Meetings With The Unlikely

_xT-Zealot: _Wow, enthusiastic! Great review! But no, I'd rather stay in this dimension, thanks ^_^'

_Alex:_ Yes, sorry about that. I make that mistake sometimes.

_Lover of Tom Riddle: _Thanks for your review! It was GREAT! It was a privilege for me to DELETE it… *sneers cleverly* Quit it, Tegan, you're getting desperately annoying. I'm so serious it's not even funny.

_Sparkle Tangerine:_ I'm glad you think my story is bloody good ^_^' Thanks for your review!

_Calistal: _The weather does screw with our minds, doesn't it? Well, it's warm enough to swim now and that's all I care about! Yeehhhaaaaawwww! Thanks!

_Legolas-of-Rivendell: _*mummble* Is Harry dead? Is that what you're asking me? Is the magical world about to collapse from Harry's absence and is Hermione going to live alone for the rest of her life? Is that what you're asking me? Well, sorry, I can't answer that… *wink*

_Mark Slade:_ You'll find out who won the second task soon… *looks around aimlessly*

_DragonBlond_04: _Action? Harry and Hermione? Maybe… I'll think about it… *wink, wink*

_Revia:_ The *sob* Leafs *sob, sob* LOST! WAAAAHHHH! Oh well… good on Detroit for winning! There's always next year! *Cujo kicks hockey's BuTT!!!*

_Nicky:_ I dunno if Harry won the second task *note: I like to mess with people's minds*

_ADJ:_ Thanks very ,very, very much for your long review! And pretty much all the stuff you assumed in the fic is very close! Thanks again!

_HulaGirl:_ Thanks for your review!

_Babooshka:_ Thanks! And sorry if I can't update as much as you'd like. I've got other stories to write, but school's over for me, so they'll be much quicker!

_E.C.R Potter:_ Yes, people like a glassesless Harry. They think he's really 'hot' without them. I don't think it makes a difference _now_, but I think might be better if he had ovalish glasses that are much thinner than the ones he has now. I have nothing against glasses, but I've heard people talk about how he'd look even better without them. Thanks for your review!

**…~'*'~…**

The Hogwarts students were looking particularly glum the few weeks after the second task. There was no merriment in the atmosphere for the approaching Christmas holiday and even a trip to the village didn't cheer things up. The starting of the red and green decorations had no impact at all either. It was nothing like Diagon Alley; nobody enjoyed it quite as well. Yes, there were many stores and taverns and people left most of them carrying packages, but for some reason, the whole lot of them seemed very reluctant to leave Dryconderoga. But after that, word had got out.

            Marindernia had heard from her friend Opilia Luigin that there was a fatal setback with the Hogwarts group. "Oh, yes, their Champion… you know him, right? The famous one? Well, someone or something attacked him a few weeks ago. I haven't found out who or what it was yet… I wonder if it was one of those second-rate groups hangs out with!" she had told Marindernia, followed by a cheerful giggle. Marindernia hadn't noticed, but everyone had known about the boy who had put one-third of the school into a frantic fit of nervousness. He was no longer seen in the Grand Hall or anywhere, as a matter of fact. His friends roamed the corridors without the boy, looking incredibly under the weather and dismissing anyone who'd speak with them. Marindernia didn't know why they'd bother; the whole lot of the Hogwarts students were rather odd anyways.

            So there was two golden weeks of Harry Potterless anguish above the castle, drowning most people in despair. The task, even though not mentioned since the accident, was sure to start some time near the end of the year, and that day was sure to creep closer… but there'd be only two champions. Perhaps they had to wait, but since Marindernia's loosing, she only wished for that much. The tasks get more difficult and brutal with every hour, and there was only a limited amount of people who could deal with them.

            Nevertheless, even though the third champion was 'terribly ill', Marindernia missed watching him across the Grand Hall. He'd always be there, feasting on platters after platters like a young man should, and talking to the lesser people around him. He seemed almost as if he took a liking to the busy-haired girl, what's-her-name; and she looked like she fancied him. They were always sitting together, across from the deprived and freckled boy they called their best friend. And Marindernia realized long ago that she was lucky that none of them saw her glowering across the hall.

            No matter. They both feared the champions, forgetting their famous friend. The unbelievably poor boy (described by many of the Nockdernian school) was too terrified to look at Marindernia, and the bossy-voiced girl seemed to not forgotten the conversation she and the champion had at the Anika Ball. Some of the other lot they'd associate with would look at Marindernia oddly, too, as if startled. Marindernia would look back at them, wondering… perhaps they found out something related to her strange behavior. It was true, she had acted unusual the night the Hogwart's champion was claimed to be ill… she had woken up in a very old and shabby storage room in the back of an abandoned classroom, lying on the ground with ripped robes for no evident reason…

**…~'*'~…**

Ron and Hermione had gone to the nearby village to buy Christmas presents, visited Hagrid several times and strolled around the castle grounds, but they just couldn't get off the topic of Harry, who they hadn't seen in two long, agonizing weeks. They've tried, of course, but were always refused to enter the infirmary by the short bundle of misery Dryconderoga called a matron. With a roar of anger, she'd slam the door in their faces, and that made Ron consider organizing a mob and building a battering ram.

            "Why doesn't see just let us have a peek?" said Ron irritably for the hundredth time that day as they left the infirmary for the Grand Hall, _"Just one bloody glimpse!"_

            "Well, the good news, he can't be worse off, or else they wouldn't cause so much fuss," said Hermione reasonably as they entered the partially decorated room and sat at the Hogwart's table with the others, "But I suppose we'll just have to wait." Ron apparently thought that idea was absurd and thumped his fist on the table.

            "If I don't get any word about him today, I swear… I'll go looking for him at midnight tonight!"

            Hermione shook her head and buried her face in her arms on the table. It was hopeless to get to Harry, but more so with convincing Ron that he could get himself expelled. Harry'd always considered that fact when he would suggest breaking a rule. It was oddly evident that Ron was completely out of line without Harry around.

            "I'll just borrow Harry's cloak," continued Ron as he munched a slice of toast, "and give it back to him when I see him! It's perfect!"

            Hermione sighed in disgust of someone having such stupid ideas and said, "Just wait until he's allowed visitors."

            But Ron had no further complaints. Instead, he tapped her on the shoulder.

            "Hermione, look! Hedwig!" he said in incredulity, "I never realized she wasn't in her cage."

            Hermione looked up at once and saw, high above the tables, one and only one owl soar inside from the open window and towards them. People looked around at it, being there wasn't supposed to be post on that day and some pointed at it. Ron was right, it was Hedwig; she soared right down to them and landed on Ron's plate.

            "Hedwig," breathed Hermione in surprised as she reached over to stroke her feathers. Most people were watching them, knowing that they had seen Harry with the same owl at breakfasts, sending letters. Ron glared at them and shouted, "What're _you_ looking at?"

            Hermione realized that there was a piece of parchment tied to Hedwig's leg. She pointed it out to Ron.

            "Well, untie it!" he said enthusiastically, and Hermione did, finding it extremely difficult, as the parchment was very worn like it was used as a handkerchief. But when she opened it and when Ron had given his bacon rinds to Hedwig for appreciation, she quietly read it aloud so nobody could overhear them:

_Come to the North tower. Bring as much food as you can. We need to talk._

_                                                               -Snuffles_

So Sirius was at Dryconderoga and he needed to talk about Harry, most likely. Hermione and Ron looked at each other; then without speaking, they jumped to their feet. Ron piled a small platter of bacon, bread and a bottle of butterbeer he'd bought in Diagon Alley into his rucksack and they raced out of the Hall, leaving Hedwig to fly off to the owlry.

 "OK, the North Tower," said Hermione, referring to Sirius's letter as they stopped outside of the door, "Where's _that?"_

Ron grinned slightly and said, "Fred and George told me they were going to set off a few dungbombs there. They showed told me where it was. C'mon!"

They ran up the corridor, Hermione following Ron. Hermione couldn't wait to see Sirius again; she hadn't seen him since the end of last year. She imagined Harry had written to him, but they couldn't meet all year, being that he was 'the convicted murderer of the Potters'. He was on the run, avoiding the Ministry in any way. But they were about to see him, just after a few long corridors and a set of stairs.

"D'you think he'll tell us something that we don't know?" Hermione asked Ron curiously as they sprinted up another corridor flanked with winged serpents. "Dunno. Well, there's so… much stuff happening and we don't… know anything. Harry might, but… you know," replied Ron in between pants.

They reached the last corridor of the north wing. Hermione followed Ron (who was mumbling directions to himself) to an oak door and they went inside. Hermione didn't expect much, and she was right. All there was behind the door was a narrow staircase that spiraled up to the tower, torches hanging above it. Ron pointed and said, "This way."

They climbed up to the top for what must have been a hundred feet above the castle and emerged onto an open landing. Hermione pulled her cloak up further, shivering. She could immediately see the grounds, as there were no walls and only casements all around them. There were brass telescopes mounted all around the edges, obviously for Astromany, and a few benches sat around the opening of the tower. It looked much like the Astromany towers at Hogwarts, with the exception of the dreadful stone serpents that were sitting on the edges, barring down at the cold and snowy grounds beneath them.

"Where is he?" said Ron, looking around.

"Here," came a scruffy voice that sounded as though it hadn't been used for ages. Ron and Hermione spun around to see Sirius frowning at them. He was wearing heavy winter robes and looking very gruff; he grew a beard, though not as long as Dumbledore's, and was looking much like the way he did when Harry, Ron and Hermione first met in their third year.

"Sirius!" gasped Hermione, "How are you?"

"Well, I suppose," said Siruis, "What about you?"

Hermione was so close to saying that she felt horrible enough to drown in the lake. But instead, she said, "OK, I guess."

Sirius cleared his throat, and shook his grisly head, looking very forlorn. He looked as though the news of Harry had touched him a bit; his eyes were glistening and - Hermione thought it was a little ridiculous for thinking it - he looked as though he had lost his best friend. Harry was like family to him, and perhaps the news reached him not too long ago.

"No you're not," said Sirius, looking from Ron to Hermione, "but you will be. Harry'll come around."

"Shouldn't we be telling you that?" said Ron, fishing through his bag to find the food he saved for him, "You look a wreck."

Sirius strained a small grin and eagerly accepted the bacon rinds, bread and butterbeer, "Thanks. All the same… I've been staying in a small village in the east. And when the message reached me from Dumbledore…" he sighed and took a huge bite of the bread, "I left right away."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other for a moment as Sirius took a seat on one of the benches, devouring the bacon like an animal. 

            "Dumbledore owled you about Harry?" Hermione asked Sirius curiously, "About how long ago was that?"

            Sirius swallowed and looked up at her, "About a week ago. Why?" Ron raised his eyebrows in disbelief. He was obviously thinking the same thing Hermione was; why would Dumbledore inform Sirius so late? He was in a very bad mood when he and Siamoen carried Harry away the night he got hurt, but why on earth would he want to keep the news from Sirius for a week?

            Sirius stopped gnawing on his bread and looked up at them in confusion, "What?"

            "Well, it's just that Dumbledore seemed pretty upset the night he and Siamoen took Harry to the infirmary," Ron told Sirius, "He wouldn't tell us anything… and he made Neville cry! Well, come to think of it, that's not difficult to do…"

            "And Harry got hurt two weeks ago," finished Hermione, glaring at Ron. Sirius's eyes went wide.

            _"Two_ weeks?" he said in incredulity, "Well, that's much more serious than one!" he swallowed the whole bottle of Butterbeer in one enormous gulp, whipped his mouth on his sleeve and said, "Any idea why he did that?"

            "None whatsoever."

            Sirius finished his bread and stood. He started pacing around the tower, scratching his husky chin and talking to himself. Ron and Hermione learned not to say anything when he was doing this; he normally got things out of it. They followed him with their eyes, waiting, until Sirius stopped and looked at them, "About the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Silversmith. Has he done anything unusual lately?"

            "Not that we know of," answered Hermione, "In fact… I haven't seen him in quite a long time."

            Hermione had almost forgotten about Silversmith. She had only seen him at a feast before the first task and hadn't seen him at all after that. Sirius nodded, and paced the tower once more. He stopped at the same place he did and said, "I've heard his name from someplace, but I can't remember where. Ever since Harry owled me about him, I've been trying to find something about him, looking him up."

            "You've heard of him?" said Ron, "Well, I'm glad someone has. Bloody mad, he is. I was beginning to think he was from another planet or something."

            Sirius nodded and said, "Yes, I've heard he was acting very strange back at Hogwarts from Harry. But how can he act so strange to Harry when he's not even here anymore? Where is he?"

            Hermione and Ron knew he wasn't really asking them, he was just thinking out loud, "He was stressing the Unforgivable curses a bit too much in class and he seemed very interested that Harry fought the Imperius curse and how he got his scar…and how he had the Cruciatus curse set on him… you know," he shrugged restlessly, "Dunno if that helps."

            "It might. Crouch was interested in the same thing last year, wasn't he? And he was working for Voldemort, right?" said Sirius. Hermione winced and Ron was about to shout at Sirius, but then he realized it wasn't Harry who said it. Sirius smiled and said, "Sorry."

            "So you're saying that Silversmith is a follower of You-Know-Who?" said Hermione to Sirius, who shook his head.

            "No, I'm saying that I suspect him. He could be anyone, Death Eater or not. He could just be a Professor who went home to see his family," said Sirius.

            "He could have kids?" said Ron in slight amusement, "Bloody hell… what a nightmare."

            Hermione shot him an angry look.

            "Well, I suggest you look out for Silversmith and make sure he doesn't go after Harry. I don't want him to think that he's being followed like last year," said Sirius, "He's been through a lot and I don't know if he can deal with it alone. His energy is wearing away," he sighed unevenly, "Give him what he needs the most: both your conciliation."

            Hermione nodded but couldn't help noticing how Sirius was talking about Harry as if he was his father. She secretly smiled with delight.

"He's formed an alliance with you and he trusts you both more than anyone I know," continued Sirius sternly, "And… you have no idea how important you are to him." Hermione stared at him in appreciation; she knew the importance of her and Ron to Harry, she just understood it more clearly now. Her mind was slowly shifting towards Ron's battering ram idea…

"We'll watch out for him," said Ron, "Just make sure you look out for yourself. Can you see Harry when he snaps out of it?"

"I really wish I could," said Sirius earnestly, "But I have business to… ah… I'll speak with Dumbledore."

"I know Harry'd be very happy to see you."

Sirius nodded again and shrugged. He looked almost shameful, and perhaps he remembered how he left Harry last year: in the infirmary with his body aching with depression and his stomach filled with guilt. However, Hermione had an awfully strong impression that he was going to forget about his 'business', whatever that was. 

"Well, it was very nice seeing you two again," said Sirius in a final sort of way, "I think I ought to be going now. It's getting a little late in the morning."

Sirius accompanied them to the entrance of the spiral staircase.

"Sirius," Hermione said as she turned around to speak to him, "You told us Harry thinks we're very important to him. Do you know how important _you _are to him?" Sirius stared at her in confusion, "He thinks of you as his father. You're the closest person to it."

Sirius nodded slowly, and smiled, "I'll see you later."

Ron and Hermione left the tower, happier than they felt all week. They climbed down the spiral staircase, opened the door to leave, but they found someone blocking it. Ron growled in anger. They were both looking into the face of Draco Malfoy and his two goons.

"Why isn't it Weasel, his friend… and no Potter," said Malfoy with a nasty sneer, "What a surprise. I haven't spoken to you in a long time."

"And let's keep it that way, shall we?" said Hermione and she tried to find a way past them, but Crabbe and Goyle were so bulky that they took up the entire doorway. They guffawed and pushed her back into Ron.

"I don't think so, Mudblood," said Malfoy. Ron roared in anger and reached for his wand, but Hermione stopped him.

"_Don't, Ron!"_ she said loudly, holding an arm back. Malfoy only laughed louder and his hoodlums followed suit. Hermione looked up at the top of the staircase, hoping beyond hope that Sirius had left. If Malfoy were to find him, he'd surely tell the Ministry, and then her and Ron would be questioned for sure. Hermione immediately wished she didn't make any movements; Malfoy looked up too.

"So you were chatting with someone up there, Granger," he said with delight, "I thought I heard voices. Who's up there?"

Neither Ron nor Hermione answered. They looked at each other with apprehensive expressions and Hermione shrugged. Malfoy wasn't pleased.

"Who's up there?" he repeated loudly, his face starting to turn red, "Argh, _get out of my way!"_ Hermione couldn't stop him; he shoved past her and Ron to get to the spiral staircase and started to run up them, his face determined. Hermione almost screamed in refusal. Her white face looked up and watched in horror as Malfoy reached the very top of the stairs. She listened for something, but Malfoy was no longer visible. Then his head appeared over the railing.

"Who were you talking to?" he called down, "There's no one here!"

            Ron and Hermione glanced at each other, their faces relieved. Sirius had escaped somehow. They were about to say something along the lines of 'well, we've better be off! Loads to do!' but Malfoy had called down to them once more, "Hey! _My-my robes are on fire!"_

            Malfoy appeared in view at once. He was indeed on fire. Howling in panic, he ran down a few steps of the staircase, the fire on his robes lighting the tower brightly. It was just too much; Ron and Hermione roared in laughter, watching as the blazing fireball that was Malfoy blundered down the spiral staircase, only stopping to realize that his robes were caught on the banister.

            Hermione couldn't believe that she could laugh so loudly at such a time of the week; Malfoy had reached a point where he sounded like a screaming banshee. Crabbe and Goyle foolishly hurried forward to help him, which was only a mistake that they could make. Hermione seized Ron's robes, and started pulling him into the corridor. 

"N-no! Wait!" laughed Ron, pulling away from Hermione to see more of Malfoy getting burnt to a crisp, but then he realized that Crabbe and Goyle were both charging at them. He shouted in alarm and he and Hermione turned to leave, but two others had joined the revelry.

Dumbledore and Snape had appeared in the doorway, looking at them in surprise. They must have heard the shouting from down the hall, and it came to Hermione that they were all very loud. Snape's face had turned a nasty shade of purple and his cold eyes were mingled with fury. He brandished his wand, pointed it at Malfoy (who had finally reached the bottom of the staircase, half his robes burnt and shredded) and the flames on his robes had distinguished immediately. Crabbe and Goyle lifted Malfoy up by the underarms and attempted to help him over to Snape, but Malfoy pushed them away and staggered pitifully, ensuring that he looked totally and utterly convincing that he was in pain.

It didn't look good. Snape had rounded on Ron and Hermione, his eyes blazing in fury and his wand thrashing about. He looked about ready to explode.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?" he roared in anger, _"YOU SHOULD BE EXPELLED!"_

Hermione recoiled in fright from Snape, but thankfully, Dumbledore stepped forwards and separated them.

"Come, Severus, don't go to extremities. This could all have been a misunderstanding," he said calmly. Hermione noticed Malfoy smirking at her and Ron with a sort of victorious expression from the corner of his mouth, making sure that Snape or Dumbledore saw him. Ron clenched his fists, looking as though he was tempted to wipe Malfoy's jaw clear off his face. Hermione's furious glance told him not to.

"What happened here?" Dumbledore asked the three of them, Snape trembling with rage beside him. Ron, Hermione and Malfoy all burst into exclamations at once.

"We were just looking around the castle-"

"They were poking around, Professor-"

"Malfoy tried to pick a fight with us when we were leaving-"

"They put my robes on fire, look! And I didn't do _anything _to them-"

"SILENCE!" shouted Dumbledore, and they all stopped immediately, staring at the headmaster in shaken apprehension. He looked around at all of them with his blue but not quite twinkling eyes, and his gaze landed on Hermione. She gulped.

"Miss. Granger, kindly tell me what happened here, with all the details," Dumbledore told her. Hermione nodded slowly, knowing that Ron's gaze was on the side of her head, swearing that if she got him in trouble, he'd throw insults at her like there was no tomorrow. So Hermione told him, leaving Sirius out completely.

"Ron and were just walking around the castle and we thought it wouldn't hurt to look out the north tower," Hermione told him, "and when we came back down the stairs…" she paused, wondering if it this was a good time to get Malfoy into some big trouble. She could repay him for all the 'Mudblood' insults and the issues he had with Harry. Then she realized that Snape was glaring at her with narrowed eyes. Well, scratch that plan, "… Malfoy was there. He checked what we were up to and his robes caught on fire at the top of the staircase," she paused, "I don't know how it happened."

"Unlikely story!" exclaimed Snape in refusal, "They deliberately lit Draco's robes for revenge!"

"How would you know? You weren't there!" Ron shot back.

"That's _enough_!" said Dumbledore strictly, "It had not been a very good start for the new school year, and I certainly do not need anymore tribulations in this castle. You have forgotten that were are guests," he looked furiously at Malfoy, Ron and Hermione and said, "There will be punishment for each of you."

Ron Hermione's mouth fell open in surprise and Malfoy made a noise of disbelief.

"What?" he cried, "You can't do that! I didn't do anything!"

"I can do whatever I wish, Mr. Malfoy," said Dumbledore strictly, "Even if it displeases me to do so, you need to be taught not to roam so far from the Grand Hall," he paused for a moment, then finished, "I have no choice but to give you each a detention. You will receive a letter by owl some time in the week."

Then he left with Snape, who cast a very seething look upon Ron and Hermione and a repentant look upon Malfoy, on his heels. They swiftly marched down the corridor and out of site. Hermione sighed.

"See you in detention," said Malfoy smugly as he, Crabbe and Goyle passed them and left through the door. They, too, disappeared, leaving Ron and Hermione to mull over on what had just happened.

Hermione couldn't understand it. Dumbledore was normally considerate and he had never given them a detention let alone not believing their side of the story. He knew Malfoy's tricks and pranks, but yet, he seemed very unaffected by them. His bad mood was getting worse.

"C'mon, we better get out of here," said Hermione. She and Ron left, their stomachs feeling considerably heavy, and slowly walked back to the Grand hall

"Well, it was good while it lasted," said Hermione, "But Malfoy could've really been hurt."

"Yeah. He can't go to the infirmary either… Harry's still in there," said Ron, fading off. Their stomach fell to their feet under the sudden burden of guilt.

They walked back to the Grand Hall, not caring how quickly they went. What they really needed now was to see Harry. They had a few questions at ask, like why Marindernia had attacked him and why she attacked him looking horrifyingly possessed. And Hermione just wanted to see him in good health.

            The Grand Hall had more decorations then it had when they had left and it was starting to look more like the Great Hall back at Hogwarts. Wreaths were hanging along the walls and evergreen garland was lining the long tables. Enormous platters of fruitcake and cherry pastry sat on the tables, surrounded by Christmassy festoon and from the tall entrance doors came a man lugging massive snowy evergreen trees inside to put them with the several others lying next to the Dryconderoga table, ready to be decorated. Hermione didn't need Ron's surprised gasp to realize who'd be strong enough to carry that many trees inside.

            "Hermione, It's Hagrid!"

            They ran up to him, feeling relieved, with Ron shouting, "Hagrid! Where have you been?"

             Hagrid's head poked through the branches of the trees to see them. His cheeks were big and rosy from the cold and his tangled beard had icicles dangling from it. He warmly smiled at them and said, "Ah, I was wonderin' when I'd see you two. How're you fellin' today?"

            "Fine, I suppose," said Hermione, "How's everything with you?"

            Hagrid lugged the massive tree over to the others and effortlessly threw it on the very top of the pile of pine needles and brushwood. He sighed and brushed his moleskin overcoat from snow.

            "Could be better… an' about Harry," he heaved another sigh, "It's got yeh all troubled. I mean the say that Harry's been through this, yeh know? Back at Hogwarts?"

            Ron and Hermione nodded sulkily.

            "He don' need it here too. But mind… it's funny, ain't it? What happened to him? Er… what _did _happen to him?" Hagrid scratched his chin in thought. Hermione bit her lip, "Nobody seems ter know an' Dumbledore's 'bin acting strange lately. Won't tell anyone a thing."

            "He doesn't know who did it, Hagrid," said Ron in aspiration, "But I do. It was- OUCH!"

            Hermione tread heavily on his foot in attempt to stop him from saying too much. He doubled backwards, clutching his injured foot with an angry expression.

            _"What'd you do that for?"_ he roared at her. Hermione grinned awkwardly at Hagrid, who was staring curiously at them, and laughed nervously. She was on the brink of inventing an imaginative excuse when someone else invited themselves into the conversation.

            "Excuse me?"

            Hermione looked around and saw a pink-faced witch with long, black hair and claret robes walking up from behind Hagrid. She smiled widely at them, and Hermione suddenly realized that she had seen her before.

            "Madam Marmalade?" she said incredulously, "What…what are you doing here?"

            "Hello again, Hermione," said the witch, "I'm just here for a few interviews."

            Ron had forgotten about his foot and stood, halfway off the ground, looking from Hermione and the witch in confusion.

            "Interviews? Why?"

            "What a minute… you know each other?" said Ron, eyebrows raised, "Where from?"

            "Madam Marmalade's, didn't I tell you? Where I got my robes for the ball?" After a moment, realization dawned on Ron's face.

            "So you're a shop owner and you're here… doing interviews."

            "I'm the new reporter for The Daily Prophet," said Madam Marmalade. Hermione gawked at her.

            "You? But you didn't tell me!"

            "I didn't think it would be appropriate, seeing that you were visiting Dryconderoga for the Tournament. I'm doing a page in the Daily Prophet for it every week and I didn't want to startle you," said Madam Marmalade kindly. It was about then when Hermione realized that Hagrid was there, looking absolutely befuddled. He scratched his massive head and grunted.

            "I'll just get going. Lots ter do."

            And he stomped away out the doors to the snowy grounds.

            "So… your friend's still in the infirmary. I was hoping I'd get an interview with him," said Madam Marmalade. Ron narrowed his eyes at her.

            "How d'you know about Harry?" he asked her. Madam Marmalade smiled at him.

            "Your headmaster told me not too long ago," she said, "Mr. Siamoen allowed me to explore the castle for ideas. So… you don't think you'd allow me to interview you, do you?"

            Hermione glanced at Ron. He had obviously realized that Madam Marmalade was the same reporter who has been writing the resent truthful articles in the daily Prophet. And they had never had an interview before.

            "Sure, I suppose," said Ron. Madam Marmalade clapped her hands together in delight and took her emerald handbag from her shoulder. She rummaged through it and took out a few roles of parchment and an eagle feather quill. Once she had gathered her things, they all sat at the decorated Hogwarts table.

            "Firstly, tell me a bit about yourselves," said Madam Marmalade keenly, spreading her parchment along the table. She suspended her quill over her papers and let go. For a moment, it jiggled restlessly, then floated perfectly still, the tip touching the parchment, ready to write. 

            "Er…" said Ron, who was watching the quill as it started to zoom back and forth across the parchment, "I'm Ron Weasley and… this is my fifth year at Hogwarts."

            "Perfect start," said Madam Marmalade, "You're both in Gryffindor, right? So what's your relationship with Harry Potter? Is he your best friend?"

            "Yes," said Hermione, "We had a few problems at first, but we've been best friends since our first year. We met him on the train."

            "What sort of problems?"

            "Well…" started Hermione, "I had acted a little snobbish when I met them and they didn't seem to like me at all. I hate to admit it but… I should have made a better impression," she sighed, "Then Harry and Ron saved me form a mountain troll and we started speaking with each other. I fight a lot with Ron but… I don't think I've ever fought with Harry and really meant it."

            "So you two are on very good terms," said Madam Marmalade.

            "Yes, you could say that."

            "What about you, Ron?"

            Ron thought for a moment, biting his lip. "I really never fought with Harry either. I think the problem is Hermione."

            Madam Marmalade laughed. Hermione scowled at him until he had frowned and corrected himself. "What I meant to say is that Hermione is only a little guilty. It's partly my fault too."

As he answered, the quill glided across the parchment, unsupported by any hands. She looked at what it read:

            _An exclusive interview with the best friends of the Hogwart's Champion. As I sit here at the Hogwart's table in Dryconderoga, the castle in which the Tournament of Demontarity is being held, I prepare to ask Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger a few questions. _

_These fifth-year Gryffindors had met Harry Potter in their first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry on the Hogwart's Express and despite a few troubles and tribulations, they have been best friends ever since._

_'I had acted a little snobbish when I met them and they didn't seem to like me at all. I hate to admit it but… I should have made a better impression,' says Hermione with a sigh, 'Harry and Ron saved me from a mountain troll in our first year and we stated speaking with each other after that. I fight a lot with Ron but I don't think I've ever fought with Harry and really meant it.'_

_As surprising as that may seem, Hermione sounds very sincere. And as for Ron-_

_'I really never fought with Harry either. I think the problem is Hermione,' he confessed, ' What I meant to say is that Hermione is only a little guilty. It's partly my fault too.'_

"So what do you think about the tournament, Ron?" Madam Marmalade asked.

            "I think it's a good opportunity, but it's much too similar to the Triwizard Tournament. And that wasn't good to watch."

            "What about Tisroc Whin? What do you think of him?" 

            "I don't like Hwin. He had a grudge against Harry ever since he met him and he's bloody mad! He's been acting like a git to Harry because of some Quidditch record that he set that beat Harry's dad."

            "Really?" said Madam Marmalade in surprise, "That's fascinating. Hermione, what do you have to say about Marindernia?"

            Hermione sighed in relief that she was to answer that one. Ron would surely let something out that would be very dodgy.

            "Marindernia's very smart and Whin's a very good athlete, but my attitude to them is about the same. She have said a few rude things to me, but it's nothing to go to pieces over."

            "And…" started Madam Marmalade with a cautious expression, "What about Harry? What do you think his odds are?"

            Hermione bit her lip, hoping that Ron would answer. But he didn't. He was watching Siamoen levitate Christmas decorations onto a pine tree at the front of the Hall with a forlorn frown. Hermione gulped.

            "I think his odds are very good if he believes he can make it. But truthfully, it's up to him if he wants to win. He's done it before and if he feels that what he did last year was enough, than he can withdraw from the Tournament. It's completely his choice and we'll agree with him with whatever he decides."

            The quill, which was still vigorously writing, trembled. 

            "And about the resent tragedy?" continued Madam Marmalade, speaking as though Hermione had a choice to answer or not. She watched Hermione as she swallowed hard and spoke.

            "I just want him to get better."

            Madam Marmalade just nodded and the quill stopped. She picked it up, gathered up her parchment and tucked them inside her handbag.

            "Thank you very much," she said, "You'll find your article on the front page of the Daily Prophet tomorrow evening. I think you'll be surprised with it," she cleared her throat and stood up, "I do hope you'll feel better soon. I know that things will get better very soon. You can be sure of that."

            Hermione watched her leave out the oak doors to the grounds with watery eyes. Ron had finally seemed to notice her and looked away from the decorating. He stared.

            "Hermione, don't do this to me," he said to her worriedly, "You know I can't deal with you like that!"

            Hermione looked up at him and nodded. She whipped her eyes on her sleeve and sniffed.

            "Hermione, I bet we'll see him tomorrow. It sounds as if Madam What's-her-name's up to something," said Ron, shaking her shoulder roughly, "Sorry, I can't remember her name. But I know it started with an 'M'."

            Hermione blocked further interference from Ron; something had just occurred to her. Ron had point, Madam Marmalade seemed a little strange. For someone who hadn't seen Harry in the infirmary, she seemed terribly sure that they'd see Harry soon. Hermione ran this theory over to Ron.

            "Now you're just plain barmy. Maybe a little detention will clear you're head, eh? Sound's like fun, right?"

            "Yes," sighed Hermione, _"Loads."_

**…~'*'~…**

**A/N:** I don't know if that's a good or bad place to end it, but I thought I'd stop at a line where Ron's fruitlessly trying to be annoying. So… good so far? I certainly hope so! And I'm sorry it took to long to post… FF.net has been down (again!) and I had it finished and waiting to be posted. So FF.net said I'll be able to post on June.19… then they said I couldn't… same thing with June. 20th. And it's now June 28th and guess what… it's still down! Oh, what a _coincidence!_ But school's over for me now, that means more time to write. Besides… I'm planning to write about 5 more chapters until I end this story! YAAAHHHHH! Oh, and…. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CANADA! I LOVE YOU! *ahem… pardon me*****


	15. The Best Christmas Gift

**I'VE HIT 200 REVIEWS! MUWHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Thanks everyone!!******

**…~'*'~…**

_Jenny:_ Of course this chapter would come out before school! If Meg doesn't post it, Meg will have to slam her ears in the oven door if she doesn't! (_bad, Meg, BAD!_) Thanks for your review! Hope you like this chapter!

_Funky_Chicken:_ Okay okay okay okay okay okay okay okay okay okay okay okay okay okay okay okay, I will update! *hehe* Thanks for thinking that this story is cool!

_Kronic:_ Harry Potter kicks ass indeed!

_Kitty: _I'll put the next chapter up right……………… now.

_Celtic / Alex:_ Yes, yes, I know. I make a few mistakes. Thanks for being one of the many who point that out.

_Kaydee:_ Awwwww… ickle Kaydee had a rashy under her widdle nosey? *snicker* You're Canadian too, eh? (I know what you're wondering. I put that "eh" purposely!) That's great! You were talking about the Badboy guy… I never knew he was the Mayor! I've never even gone to that Badboy's place! But I do know that his commercial was a tad corny. But hey, who am I to say! I am but only one person! (Shakesphere, I think) Anyways, as I read your reviews… wait a second… YOU DON'T LIKE HOCKEY! YOU _MONSTER!_ Joking! I wont hold _that_ against you! And you said that you were sooo happy when the men's gold medal game… but did you cry? Like me? (_ahem_… did I let that slip? Sorry.) That game'll stick with me forever. There was like, 2 minutes left, and BOOM! 2 more goals until the game was over and Wayne went into hysterics. *sigh* And about the Leafs? The Leafs suck now. Their careers are over, as I see it. Unless we get a miracle… which I doubt. Anyways, you haven't seen the picture of Tom Riddle yet? Here's that link, then --- http://www.rexfeatures.com/cgi-bin/rppshimg0?i=379885A ------ It should work. He looks kind of funny but he's in his school uniform with the Slytherin symbol thingy. He almost looks like a snake, but I think it's just because he's getting ready to take a drink of his coffee. And did you hear that Emma Watson went to the Scooby Doo premier with Tom Felton… _Tom Felton! _Why not Dan, huh, Watson? Why not promote that H/H everyone likes to see? … I just remembered she's not reading this… ^_^;. Anyways, thanks very much for your many, many, long reviews! (DUCKTAPE FOREVER, my love to Royal Canadian Air Farce (not a typo), and long live Mike Bullard! "Hello? Sweden? Yeah. Are you watching channel 11? Good, because…. WE WON!" (That's my assumption of what Mike said, as I haven't seen that episode… *sniff, sniff*)

_Catherine:_ WoW! You flatter me! *Baaaaaawwwwww* 

_DragonBlood_04:_ Thanks for going through all that trouble to review! I'm glad you like Miss Marmalade; she seems incredibly good-natured… and I think you have an idea about her, don't you? Or at least the article…. right? Don't answer that! I don't want anyone to know!

_Ib:_ Why do I hate Ron so much? Why _wouldn't_ you hate Ron so much? He's too nosey and rude and inconsiderate and dull-minded and he doesn't realize that Harry doesn't have it any better than he does! *snort* My favorite Character is Harry, and really, he sometimes treats him pretty badly for a best friend. But… he's done some really good things too, I must admit. I've put some good things in this fic about him… I even surprise myself how nice I can make him sometimes! And about the Fred and George issue… a Harry Potter fic is not a Harry Potter fic without the twins. Nuff said.

**…~'*'~…**

Hermione woke up the next morning to the pleasant beams of misty sunlight spreading over her four-poster, the cold air on the outside of her covers tickling her face. The smell of evergreen nipped her nose in a pleasant sort of way, reminding her that it was Christmas morning.

            Hermione sat up, rubbing her eyes of sleep, and looked out her window at a beautiful sight. The grounds were being covered in bundles of white, cottony snow and the bare trees were layers with ice. Even as she watched, large pieces of the snow fell to the ground from the sagging branches. Just looking at all the white and frosty windows made her feel better than she recently was.

            "Happy Christmas, Hermione," said Ginny pleasantly, who had came over from her four-poster, already dressed in her robes and crimson Weasley jumper (the Weasleys and Harry had always got a jumper from Mr. Weasley for Christmas every year). Hermione smiled a little.

            "You too," she said, stretching.

            "You'd better hurry, everyone's in the Common Room already… Ron's waiting for you," she giggled, "He's trying to be patient because of the Holiday, but I think he's going to lose his temper soon." Hermione rolled her eyes in disgust.

            "It's going to be a long day," she sighed tiredly, "Thanks, Ginny, I'll be down soon."

            Ginny nodded and left to the common room. Hermione got to her feet, stumbling a bit, walked to her trunk where she gathered her robes and dressed at her four-poster.

            As usual, her mind drifted off to Harry as it always did in the mornings she'd wake up to the nights she'd turn in. She wondered how he'd be doing and if she and Ron would be allowed to see him in the infirmary for a small talk. Perhaps she would soon be told that he was allowed to roam the castle freely. Whatever the case, Hermione was reaching a state where she was unaware, almost delusional, if Harry existed at all anymore.

            Hermione, who was now dressed and looking fairly well put together, went back to her trunk to but her things away. She collected her books that she was reading the night before, a large pile which happened to include '_The New Hogwarts: A History' _Harry had bought her. She was about to tip them all into her trunk until something caught her eye.

            Sitting at the bottom between her rolls of parchment and her Transfiguration books was a gold box that shimmered expectantly in the hazy light from her window. It was Harry's Christmas gift that Hermione had bought at their trip to the village some time ago. She had thought he'd be out of the infirmary by the time she had brought it back to the castle, but now, it was just sitting in the darkness of her trunk, collecting dust.

            Hermione gulped, her knees bending to let the books in her arms gently fall to the ground. Pale with apprehension, she put her hands on the top of the open trunk, ready to slam it shut, but she hesitated. It was just sitting there, motionless, the gold shimmering as if it were teasing her. It wouldn't hurt just to look at it, just to make she that it was still all right. Hermione released her trunk, carefully reached inside, and pulled out the bullion box with trembling hands.

            Inside, wrapped in sparkling red paper, was a photo frame with glass casing. Hermione staggered over to her four-poster, put the gold box and wrappings on her pillow and sat, the frame clutched tightly in both hands. Her eyes traced the elegantly engraved edge to the cheerful photo inside it. It was a picture of Harry, being lifted onto the shoulders of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, when he had won them the first Quidditch cup in their third year. She and Ron were next to him, hoisting him up in triumph, looking ecstatic. It was a photo taken by Colin Creevy and his Muggle camera (his friend had it changed it to a moving photograph) and even as Hermione watched, Harry was laughing and Ron was pounding him on his back. And at the bottom of the photograph was Hermione's tidy signature and Ron messy one in permanent ink. 

            Hermione's eyes stung, watching Harry. He looked so young and untroubled, much unlike she had seen him last. But that wasn't why she felt a gist of sadness overcome her; it was because this was the first time she laid eyes on anything remotely like Harry, even though it was in a frame. This was the first time she had seen his face since the accident with Marindernia. Hermione's fingertips brushed against the photograph… and for a moment, Hermione thought she saw the photographic Harry wink at her, the corner of his lips curving into a small smile…

            The door to the dormitory suddenly creaked open, making Hermione jump and scream. But her expression of alarm was soon replaced with fury, seeing Ron's freckled face poke through the opening.

            "RON!" shrieked Hermione, her eyes on him but her hands fumbling for the gold box next to her, "You're not allowed in here, you know that!"

            "I know, but I couldn't wait any longer! You take too bloody long!" said Ron furiously, closing the door, "Hurry up already!"

            Hermione jumped to her feet. Once she had put the framed photograph back in it's box and the ribbons were securely tied, Hermione pilled all her books inside her trunk, grabbed Ron's wrapped gift and checked if anything was missing until turned back to Harry's gift. Indecisive for a moment, she stuffed it inside the pockets in her robes and left the dorm.

            Hermione hurried down to the common room and spotted Ron, who was also wearing his Weasley jumper, waiting for her in one of the armchairs, a very chaotically wrapped box in his lap.

            _"Here!"_ said Hermione furiously. She threw his Christmas gift at him, and he caught it.

            "Ah, you should have!" he said with a very foolish grin, "Here's yours."

            Hermione found her gift pushed into her hands. She immediately knew what it was, with its obvious shape of a turret. When she peeled away the paper, she found that she was right; had given her a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. Ron had opened his gift, which was a Chudley Cannons quill that when you'd write, it would emit orange sparks while the small, plastic bludger on the top would spin feverishly.

            "Wow!" said Ron in fascination, staring at it as the sparks flew up, narrowly missing his head, "Thanks!"

            "Thank you," said Hermione, opening her Bertie Botts and picking out a reddish orange one, which turned out to be ginger sorbet. 

            "Hey, Ron!" said Fred, who were just walking across the common room to the Grand Hall with George, both wearing matching blue Weasley jumpers, "You're going to be late, you know. I heard that there's going to be Father Christmas at breakfast!"  
            They left, laughing as they went. Ron snorted, shaking his head.

            "We better get going, then."

            Hermione had a vague impression that Harry's absence was still nagging at Ron, and he seemed to be struggling to joke and act like himself, but looking very solemn in the process. He amused himself with his Chudley Cannons quill on the way to the Grand Hall, where they sat at the Hogwart's table with Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, Lee Jordan and the Twins.

            Hermione noticed that Dryconderoga was going the extra mile for their visitors; the Hall looked much more decorated than what Hermione had seen yesterday. There were about a dozen more bedecked Christmas trees and the garland was in more places than it should be. The dishes of food were on special red, green and gold platters and they even had Christmas pastries. But no Father Christmas, not that Hermione believed it.

            Hermione helped herself to eggs and toast, leaving out the Christmassy dishes. She wasn't really hungry. She got halfway through her pumpkin juice until she was given her Christmas gifts from her parents with a school owl she had sent to them with a letter. It turned out to be a new jumper and a subscription for the "Witch's Weekly' magazine. Ron had got a cockroach in his goblet from the twins.

            At the point where Hermione was nearly finished, she realized that Hagrid, who was sitting at the front of the Hall between Professor Sprout and Professor Kohl, looked tremendously happier than last time she had seen him. In fact, all the Professors looked cheerful; Siamoen was no longer bumbling and Dumbledore was… Hermione looked twice. Dumbledore wasn't sitting with them. She pointed this out to Ron.

            "Strange," she said slowly, "Maybe he's planning a surprise…"

            "Father Christmas!" shouted George, who had heard him. Ron scowled.

            "No… I don't think so," said Hermione, "Maybe he's just late."

            "Or maybe he's waiting to speak with you in the Headmaster's office," interrupted a strict voice behind them. Hermione and Ron jumped and gasped in surprise, seeing that it was Professor McGonagall, who was wearing red and green robes for the occasion, who spoke behind them. She raised a thin eyebrow at them.

            "H-hello Professor. Who were y-you talking to?" stuttered Ron. He clenched his eyes shut, dreading the answer, but she had answered with a name Hermione was ready to expect.

            "Miss. Granger, of course," she said eyeing Ron with curiosity. She looked at Hermione, "Come along, now. You will be back later."

            Hermione stood, most of the students watching her, and glanced at Ron, who was looking very curious. He had no idea what was going on, but Hermione might've had a vague notion. She quickly followed Professor McGonagall out of the Grand Hall to a smaller room from a winding passageway, then to a dark, unlit corridor that Hermione had never walked into. Far from being curious to where Professor Siamoen's office would be, Hermione's thoughts were on what Dumbledore wanted to talk to her about. It had to be about Marindernia; the unknown cause of Harry's accident was still floating around. Or for some reason, it could be about Harry. Hermione braced herself as Professor McGonagall stopped at a tall, narrow door a few doors away from the end of the corridor. She knocked three times on it, and behind it came a deep voice, "Enter."

            Professor McGonagall opened the door and gestured Hermione to step inside.

            Hermione walked into an enormous angular room the size of the entrance hall back at Hogwarts. It, like the rest of Dryconderoga, it was decked in green; green curtains and hangings, green statues and green portraits, as the light coming from a vast fireplace had green flames. To the side was a desk, and sitting at it was Dumbledore, speaking with Siamoen. Hermione, trembling from head to foot, stopped dead at the sight of them, and jumped when Professor McGonagall closed the door behind her.

            "I'll see to it that the feast is well accounted for," said Siamoen merrily, clapping his hands together in excitement, "We can't have a lackluster time for our new guests!"

            "Yes, I'm sure you will be exciting, Slaton. It will be a pleasure for me to attend," said Dumbledore as Siamoen sidled to the door, "And thank you for the use of your office."

            "Not a problem!" Siamoen gave a cheerful smile at Hermione as he passed her and hurried out the door. Hermione gulped as the door snapped closed again, and she was left alone with Dumbledore. Still tremulous, she watched as he leaned over the desk to gather some rolls of parchment that he must have been writing on. Then he sighed, stood up and walked over to the fireside, where a small kettle was brewing.

            "Would you like some tea, Miss Granger," he said, not looking at her as took the kettle and placed it heavily on the desk, "Professor Siamoen has suggested for you to make yourself at home," Hermione had to find her voice before she could speak. 

            "N-no thank you, sir," she said quietly. Dumbledore, however, magiced a teacup from his wand and poured the steaming water inside it. Then he sat back down and gestured to one of the armchairs before the desk.

            "Please sit, Miss. Granger," he said kindly. Hermione did as she was told, trying not to wonder why he was acting so differently, so… _pleasant._ She kept her head low and her hands twisting in her lap.

            "Now," sighed Dumbledore, folding his hands atop the desk, "I need to ask you a few questions. I'm not asking you to tell me the details that you do not wish for he to know. But I am asking you to tell me the truth. Do you understand?"

            Hermione looked up at him and regretfully nodded.

            "I understand that you were very distressed on the day of the second task, Miss Granger," started Dumbledore slowly, wanting Hermione to understand, "I imagine that you did not desire to tell me the truth of the cause of your sudden state of anxiety with the other students close by, and whatnot," he paused, "Miss Granger, will you tell me what was the matter on that day?"

            Hermione looked up at him. He looked almost inhuman, with the glow of the fire dancing on his otherwise friendly face. His eyes were sparkling and staring. But Hermione had heard many stories from Harry that he could tell him about things, like the concerns with Sirius, Voldemort and his dead parents. Hermione decided that she'd tell him all she could allow herself.

            "T-the reason that I acted like that was because… I saw something that I know I shouldn't have," Hermione began, "I didn't want to watch the second task because I felt ill… so I stayed in the castle," she hesitated for a moment, "I went to an abandoned classroom to watch a little bit of the task through an open window, and… I saw Marindernia there in the back room."

            Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, "And what was different about her?"

            "Well, she was… she was just like I told you before, glowing and hovering in midair," explained Hermione in a rush, "And… her eyes were red and she was mumbling a language I've never heard of. It was like she… wasn't in her own body."

            It was like all the disbelieving things Hermione had said made sense to Dumbledore somehow. She didn't know what made her think of it, but Hermione had a slight idea that he knew what was happening.

            "Anything else you remember?" he asked her, but Hermione shook her head.

            "Thank you for your answer," said Dumbledore, "That brings us to my second question: did you see what happened to Harry on the night he was attacked?"

            Hermione snapped her head up to look at him, but she didn't mean to. She knew she couldn't tell him about what had happened; it was something that she and Ron were only to know (Harry too, but she wasn't sure if he went unconscious before he realized who it was). What would happen if it got out to the entire school? But then… perhaps if she told… he could do something to prevent Harry from getting hurt.

            "I just caught a glimpse of them, it could've been anyone. But I think it was… er… Marindernia."  
            More understanding gleamed in Dumbledore's eyes. He leaned back, staring at the ceiling in concentration.

            "I see," he said, "Is that all you know, Miss Granger?"

            "Yes sir,"

            He nodded. He spent a minute thinking, Hermione watching him in interest, hoping that she could soon leave. She told him all she wanted to tell, and if Dumbledore were left to think, he'd stumble across another tough question for sure.

            "Miss. Granger," said Dumbledore, interrupting Hermione's thoughts, "your friend from the Daily Prophet told me how upset you and Mr. Weasley appeared to be when she was interviewing you," he looked at her, "Have you read her article yet?"

            Hermione had completely forgot about the article. She shook her head vigorously, and at that, Dumbledore sat up and reached across the desk to pick up one of the papers. It was the front page of the _Daily Prophet._

            "I suggest you do," he told her with a very wide smile, "It seems that all the staff were genuinely surprised with it."

            Hermione accepted the article with slightly shaking hands and looked at it. There, below the fancy writing of _'The Daily Prophet'_ was a moving picture of the Dryconderoga castle as it looked the day Madam Marmalade interviewed Ron and her. And next to it was the same text Hermione had seen the quill write. All the things Hermione said was there and not changed around to sound more exciting. But as she read, she noticed that there was a new piece added to it. A part Madam Marmalade must had written before Ron and Hermione's interview:

…_While Hermione, the clever and ambitious girl, and Ron, the comical yet charming boy has had no word on the progress of their good friend's recovery, Harry Potter, I decide to surprise them a little. _

_With the permission of Slaton Siamoen, the headmaster of Dryconderoga, I am admitted into the infirmary to meet this boy I've heard so much of. I find him resting in a hospital bed, reading his favourite book _'Quidditch Through The Ages'._ Compared to his former state, he looked incredibly healthier indeed. _

_And, what's more, he agrees with an interview._

_I understand that Harry dislikes interviews, as most do, so I ask him the obvious questions, such as how he was feeling at that moment._

_'Very well,' he told me, 'I've had a few potions and I feel a lot better.'_

_Harry had been told to remain his hospital bed for a few long weeks now, with no notice from his friends._

_'I've had a few of my Professors see me, but nobody else,' he admits, 'The matron who works here wont allow it. She's a bit strict… not that it's a bad thing.'_

_But I made sure I threw in a few good words from his best friends. I tell him that I had interviewed Ron and Hermione, and he smiled very widely, as if he was waiting for word from them._

_            'You have? How are they?' he asked me, 'Do you know if I can see them yet?'_

_            It was apparent that he wanted to leave the infirmary as soon as he could. If anything, this boy has the power and strength to do what he wishes, but like his friend said, 'It's completely his choice and we'll agree with him with whatever he decides'. The entire country wishes you good luck, Harry Potter._

Hermione lowered the paper to her lap once she had finished. Her mouth was open and her head was buzzing with excitement.

            "Quite a recovery Mr. Potter has taken, Miss. Granger," said Dumbledore with a chuckle, "And an hour ago when I visited him, he was still exceedingly anxious to see Mr. Weasley…" his beard twitched, "…and you."

            Hermione hadn't really heard what Dumbledore had said. The one thing that she really wanted to hear made her insides freeze. 

            "Professor," she gasped, tossing the Daily Prophet on the desk in excitement, "You just said you've seen him, right? Can… can I?"

            Dumbledore drained his teacup and smiled at her, "Why not. You've waited long enough. You're friend Ron should be there by now."

            Hermione forgot to grimace in disgust at the thought of Ron visiting Harry first as she jumped to her feet in a rush of wind.

            "Thank you, Professor," she said, trying to remain composed, but failing badly (Dumbledore's face was red with mirth and his beard was twitching more than ever), "May I leave?"

            "You may."

            Hermione ran to the door, wrenched it open, and looked down the corridor. She hadn't noticed that she had gone down this corridor when she went to speak with Dumbledore, as she was too nervous to notice where was going. In fact, she had been down this corridor many times, going to the infirmary to ask the matron if she and Ron could visit Harry. As she looked down it, she realized that where Harry was staying wasn't far, but only half a corridor away. 

            The length of the corridor was exceedingly shorter than any other time Hermione had hurried to the end of it. She slowed down, only to get past a pack of young, staring Nockdernians, and soon came across the door with the familiar little gold sign reading _'infirmary'._ With her hand on the knob, Hermione swallowed hard and opened the door.

            The smell of spotlessness and medical remedies that was only found in hospitals reached Hermione's nose and knocked some sense into her. The sudden amount of light that flooded the large room stung her eyes. At first, she squinted with her hand shielding her eyes, but looking around, it subsided. Several white-covered hospital beds stood lengthwise along the walls only ending where a desk and chair was. Bottles and bottles of shelved liquids and herbs hung along the walls and many contraptions Hermione had only seen in the infirmary at Hogwarts stood in the center of the square span.

            Then someone called for her at one of the beds.

            "Hermione! Over here!"

            It was coming from the very end of the room, and looking around, Hermione's eyes laid on a magnificent sight that she longed to see. Sitting at the very last hospital bed in the room was Harry, with Ron in a chair next to him. They were both smiled, gesturing her to come over.

            It was the moment Hermione anticipated for a long time. She hurried over to them, remembering that Ron knew more than necessary and that she shouldn't make it worse. She reached them… but she couldn't help herself. With a wail of happiness, she collapsed at Harry and wrapped him into an enormous hug.

            "Harry!" said gasped, not realizing she was in the direction of  'going over your head', "Dumbledore showed me the article in today's paper and… _oh, Harry_…you're better!"

            "Whoa, wait a minute here," said Ron, _"Didn't I tell you not to get all emotional around me?"_

            But Hermione, not fully aware what he was talking about, realized that Harry's chest shook with laughter as he hugged her back, "I missed you too, Hermione."

            Hermione never wanted to let go of Harry, but with Ron grimacing as though discovering that Hagrid had snuck another dragon egg into his hut, she decided against it. Instead, Harry guided her at the end of his bed to sit down.

            "Ron told me you'd get upset," Harry told Hermione, who kept her face in her hands, "Sorry if I scared you."

            Hermione was finally able to dry her eyes with the back of her hand without collapsing into tears. Raising her head to look at him, she realized the way Madam Marmalade described Harry was perfectly correct. It was as though nothing had happened to him at all; most of his bloody cuts and gashes had disappeared, accept for a few on his cheeks and neck that were barely noticeable. The only evidence of what happened was a bandage binding on his left hand that extended halfway up his arm. Hermione's lips curled into a small smile; he looked so familiar.

            "Ron says a lot of things," she said, "It's not your fault."

            Hermione could feel Harry's eyes penetrating the side of her head. She was even aware of his smile.

            "Don't forget that _I'm _here!" said Ron loudly, "And don't talk about me that way," he snapped at Hermione.

            "So," said Harry, changing the subject, "what did you get yourselves into?"

            Hermione looked up from her lap at Ron, who frowned, looking very uneasy. "Uh… we got a detention," he muttered, "Just yesterday."

            Harry's mouth fell open, "What for?"

            Hermione looked around to see if anyone was listening or if the matron was nearby. There was no one, so she leaned in and told him, "We went to see Sirius in the north tower. The only problem was that Malfoy was there when we were trying to leave-"

            "Yeah," said Ron, his face breaking into an enormous grin, "Sirius set his robes on fire when he went to see who we were talking to. He fell all the way down the stairs!"

            "Then Dumbledore and Snape caught us," Hermione interrupted him furiously, "It's better than getting expelled. That's what Snape wanted, wasn't it?"

            "Leave him to the punishment," growled Ron, "And Malfoy has a detention too! If I have to scrub trophies again… with _him_…"

            "Harry," said Hermione suddenly, remembering something that she meant to ask him, "Does it seem to you that Dumbledore has been kind of… under the weather?"

            "I dunno," answered Harry, shrugging, "I didn't talk to him for long. I only saw him yesterday night when he visited me with Sirius. He seemed fine to me."

            Hermione raised her eyebrows in thought. She supposed she'd expect an answer like that; Dumbledore did seem very kind when she was speaking with her a half an hour ago. She was just too nervous to remember that he was in such a bad mood the other times she'd seen him.

            "Maybe he ate bad broccoli," suggested Ron, "That happened to me once."

            Harry laughed again, but Ron didn't find anything funny.

            "And Silversmith," said Hermione, not wanting to leave the topic, "Have you seen much of him recently?"

            Harry nodded grimly, "He owled me this." He leaned over and reached under the bed. Finding what he was looking for, he straightened up and held out a large wrapped basket of fruit and incredibly bright flowers of red, yellow and pink. Ron burst into another fit of laughter.

            "I suppose he's got a thing with bright colours," said Harry thoughtfully, putting it back, "It said in a note that came with it that he knew I'd win the tournament. I dunno how he thought that… he wasn't even there."

            The colour drained from Hermione's face. She had completely forgotten about the places of the champions in the tournament.

_"What?"_ she said, "You won as in… you were _first?"_

Harry nodded slowly, "Yes. Why, didn't you know?"

            "NO!" said Hermione loudly, torn between her foolishness and excitement, "I forgot all about the Tournament. I was too worried about you!"

            "Oh, _that's_ a laugh!" said Ron sarcastically, "First you leave him completely alone at the ball for no reason when he was nice enough to ask you to be his partner, then you ignore him for days after! Now you said that you forgot about the Tournament because you were _worried _about him?" he stared at her as if she were mad, _"What's wrong with you?"_

            _"Shut up, Ron,"_ Harry interrupted him.

            Ron folded his arms, his eyes narrowed at Hermione, who was staring at her hands in her lap.

            "D'you mind if we speak alone?" Harry said to Ron after a minute of silence, "Just for a few minutes."

            "I don't mind… but I'm sure you will," said Ron testily, getting to his feet.

            He left the infirmary in a huff. Suddenly Hermione wished that he hadn't left, no matter how immature he was acting. She really didn't want to talk to Harry alone, being that she knew what he'd ask. It was just another awkward moment that Hermione wished that she could sit out.

            "Why so interested in Silversmith all of a sudden?" Harry asked Hermione quietly.

"I haven't seen him in ages," answered Hermione, glad that his first question wasn't embarrassing, "Sirius hasn't heard of him at all."

"He told me Dumbledore wasn't happy with him," said Harry, "Maybe you'll see him at tonight's feast. I reckon he'll be there."

Silence again. Hermione's heart was racing and she felt like her stomach wasn't there at all. She supposed Harry was avoiding the topic because he didn't know what to ask her. He had been in the infirmary for more than she ever knew anyone could, after all. Hermione gulped, began to speak.

            "Harry," she started, "I'm really sorry I ignored you" she sighed, "Ron's right. It was very foolish of me."

            She didn't look at him, but Hermione knew Harry was listening, staring at his bed sheets.

            "You weren't foolish, just… I dunno," said Harry, "You were caught up in everything, I guess."

            "Harry, you've got more important things going on than I do," said Hermione, glancing at him, "You've got Sirius and the silly tournament… then there's You-Know-Who!"

            Harry looked up at her, apparently surprised she'd say something like that.

            "He's after you. Everything's all spoiled for you ever since you started school and it's not getting any better," even Hermione was taken aback at what she was saying, "But really… you're only fifteen. You've only been at Hogwarts for five years. And still…"

            She faded off. Truthfully, what she was saying was being processed at that very moment, like she was realizing it for the first time. And it scared her that everything she understood now was real. Harry had a lot on his shoulders; the Dark Lord was after Harry and he had no parents… it was all true. She felt prickles in the corner of her eyes.

            "Harry," she said, turning her head to look at him, "This is the longest time you've spent in a hospital bed… almost two weeks. You've never been ill for that long," she swallowed, very much aware of Harry's green eyes looking into hers, "It… it seems like every time you get hurt, you stay here for longer. But… what if you get hurt really badly?"

            "What are you saying?" Harry asked her, his voice very quiet.

            Hermione swallowed hard. "You might think it's mad," admitted Hermione, "But what if… what if you were to never come out of here? What if you get hurt so badly you get sent to your realities? Or… not even that."

            Hermione sniffed and looked away. The tears in the corner of her eyes were threatening to leak out and her voice was trembling. Apparently, Harry noticed.

            "Hermione," he sighed, "I know what you're talking about. I feel the same way, really."

            Hermione laid back, her head resting on the soft blankets. She covered her eyes with her arms as if to shield the light. They were lapsed into silence again, but Hermione seemed to enjoy it this time around. She thought that she was imagining it, or even hoping, but she felt something consoling in her hair. It was soft and she couldn't really feel it, but it warmed her insides like she couldn't believe. Then after one or two minutes, she realized that it was Harry's touch that was comforting her. He was running his fingers through her hair, wrapping the stands between his fingers. And even though her eyes were closed, she could sense his eyes watching her.

            "It just scares me," Hermione muttered.

            "I don't want to leave, you know. And I certainly don't want to go to my relatives when I should be at Hogwarts. Summers enough with them," said Harry, "But really, Hermione… d'you really think that'll happen to me?"

            Hermione didn't answer. She knew what to say, but even if it ashamed her to admit it, she did know that there was a chance that Harry wouldn't make it out of Hogwarts. It was a horrible thought. She hoped that Harry understood.

            "You and Ron are my first friends that I've ever had," said Harry, breaking Hermione's thoughts, "and if you do get hurt, it'll be my fault."

            "Harry, that's not true," said Hermione, sounding abashed, "You've saved our lives! I'm not going to risk anything and not be your friend," she opened her eyes and looked up at him, "I don't fight with you like Ron and I didn't have any friends in my old muggle school. So really… you're my first friend too," she smiled slightly, "You haven't called me any names, either."

            Harry looked down at her with a smile that looked so brilliant. At once, Hermione remembered Harry's gift with his photographic self and how much he looked so similar to it when he smiled. The sparkling eyes, the messy hair, the small laugh afterwards… Harry's gift! 

            She suddenly sat up and still sitting on Harry's bed, turned to face him and reached inside her robes to pull out the delicately wrapped gold box. 

            "This is your Christmas present," she said, handing it to Harry, "It was sitting at the bottom of my trunk for a long time because I thought I could visit you earlier."

            Harry carefully took it and put it on his knee to open it. He untied the ribbon, opened the box and peeled back the gold paper. His eyes went wide.

            "Hermione," he said, lifting it up, "Where'd you get this?"

            "Colin gave it to me. Don't worry - he has plenty others."

            Harry stared long and hard at the photo, watching the little photographic people wave at him. He traced the signatures at the bottom with his fingertips in awe.

"Herm – thanks," he said, "I haven't gotten a gift like this before." He reached under his pillow and pulled out something from behind him.

            "I've been holding onto this for a while now so I can give it to you in person… since we haven't spoken," he said quietly. Hermione stared at his hand, where sitting on it was a small, long, old-looking red velvet box that looked well worn. He handed it to her, and Hermione, her mouth open slightly, took it.

            "Open it," Harry said.

            So Hermione did, and found what was undoubtedly something she wouldn't have expected.

            Inside was a gorgeous antique necklace with an emerald pendant on a shimmering gold chain. Hermione, her mouth gapping with speechlessness, removed the small fasteners that held the necklace into place as carefully as she could. She lifted it into the air. The light coming from the window made it sparkle elegantly.

            "Harry," Hermione breathed, her eyes still on the necklace, "I-I couldn't possibly except this. It must have cost you a fortune!"

            "Herm, don't worry about that! It's your Christmas present," he grinned, "And if you don't accept it, I wont speak to you until our seventh year." He took it from Hermione, who was absentmindedly gawking at him, the necklace still dangling between her fingers, and unhinged the small clasp. He reached out and put both arms on either side of her neck. With a small click, he leaned back again.

            "It looks beautiful on you," Harry said kindly.

            Hermione was somewhat put in a sudden stupor, for she finally realized that that the necklace – her necklace – was around her neck. She looked down at it and squealed.

            "Thank you so much, Harry!" She leapt at him and hugged him as tight as she could. Then she kissed him on the cheek.

"You're a great friend, Harry," said Hermione, her chin on his shoulder, "I just wish you'd realized that."

"You have no idea."

Hermione left the infirmary a few minutes later once she had bid her goodbyes and wished him well, twirling her beautiful new necklace between her fingers. She knew it would become her newest habit, playing with the chain and staring at it as if nothing else mattered. But she really didn't want to leave Harry. It came to realization that she could have told him that she liked him as more than a friend, but the opportunity came and went. The time was getting close when another opportunity would come… she could feel it.

**…~'*'~…******

**A/N:** Ah, jeez. My head is swelling with ideas for another fic! I can't stand it! I've been jotting down some ideas and… all I can say that it'll be great, and once this story is finished… *ahem* Anyways… did you like it? Oh… but just wait until the next fic! It'll be as action-packed as chapter 8, which everyone seemed to like. And… you will never guess… I'm working on Harry Potter art right now; a picture of Tisroc, Maindernia and Harry… I've only just finished Whin (and he looks REALLY good lookin!). I'll post a link to it as soon as I get it finished.

I'm supposed to go up north to Killbear Park in 9 days (8 hour drive!)... ah, I can smell Georgian Bay now… and all the chipmunks and bears… what a beautiful park… sorry, got carried away. But get this: my dad's gonna bring the laptop with him. Wow, that's roughing, it! ChOw! (_note_: check out my Hogwart's Yearbook fic… It's hilarious!) 


	16. A Very Scary Plan

_Jenny:_ Guess what? I fixed the Impedimenta mistakes! Yah for me! No more complaints! Thanks!

_Queen Isa:_ I think Wormtail is a dirty, lying thief, a waste of skin and a dumb excuse of a human being and a man that Harry should torture with the imperious curse until they scream 'uncle'! And you'll have to find out if Marindernia is working for Voldemort and if Wormtail's in here ^_^; (I like to keep my reviewers on the edge.)

_Cherrymist:_ I wont stop writing this fic until it's finished! I know better *grin*

_Max Lonewolf:_ G'day, eh? OK, I did have fun with the mosquitoes up north. We played beer games, eh? But they can't hold beer bottles. Have you ever had that problem? When you find a bug that you couldn't play beer games with? I met a few up north, eh? And they couldn't hold beer bottles to play beer games. Have you ever had that problem? When you find a bug that you couldn't play beer games with? (H/H will be with you shortly, Mr. Lonewolf. Please have a seat.)

_Whoever the heck you are:_ Hi! I'm a lazy bum! My butt is lazy because I can't get my story up sooner than I'd like to! Say hello to my lazy butt.  (Lazy butts aren't all that bad! My Prime Minister has a lazy face, but he still manages to run Canada!)

_E.C.R Potter:_ Oh, you're sensing the right things. Yep. I told you all there'd be H/H! I'm glad you reviewed!

_Dragonblond_04:_ Whoa, now. Let's stay away from the drugs, shall we? *giggle* Don't give any of that Marindernia info away, okay? My career will blow up into smithereens. And…you added me to your favorites list? THANK YOU! 

_Snufalufagus:_ There isn't enough of this story? Well, I hope there will be enough when it's finished… by then, it'll be roughly longer than the size of the second book (And I'm not lying. I actually checked!) Thanks for your review!

_E.C.R Potter (added on Sept 2)-_ Oh Boy. I didn't even catch that! Okay, thanks for telling me about the mistakes. I changed them. (I thought I did so well! *sob*)

**THANKS TO ALL MY REVIEWERS!**

**…~'*'~…**

There weren't many students around the castle. The flow of people in the corridor had minimized and the chatting had lowered to almost a whisper. It was Christmas, and everyone had left in the morning to go see their families back home. Meanwhile, those staying at Dryconderoga couldn't get more into the Christmas spirit; everything was normal again. Or at least until the Christmas season was over.

            Nobody could visit Harry in the infirmary after Hermione had left in the morning. The main reason the Hogwart's students were so happy because they were eagerly waiting until the Christmas feast where Harry could dine with them. It would be like it was a week and a half ago, with Harry talking and laughing while Ron told banal jokes.

            But Ron had left to go to the Burrow with his brothers and sister right after he visited Harry, and Hermione was glad. She and him hadn't spoken to each other since their visit with Harry in the infirmary.

"Why are you so mad at him?" inquired Parvati when they were getting ready for the feast in their dorm (she was staying at Dryconderoga for the holidays as her parents were traveling the country), "Did he do something wrong?"

            But Hermione, being very mulish and not wanting to resurface the long string of spiteful words, replied with, "None of your business."

            Even though Harry had forgiven her, Ron's words were heavily embedded in her mind, as it was all true, as much as she hated to admit it. Harry could forgive and forget easily, but Ron was incredibly stubborn and for the most time, he'd find something wrong in everything.

            Hermione had other things to worry about, of course. She came up with a plan while watching the Gryffindor snowball fight on the grounds with Ginny and Parvati. It was a good plan, because Harry was soon to leave the infirmary. Nothing had dared to attack him there, so if he left, he would become incredibly vulnerable. He'd dealt with things that threatened his life many times, but he really had no idea what had attacked him of what was causing it. And he certainly didn't know that Hermione had met his attacker before. 

            Hermione needed to find out more about this false 'Marindernia' figure, and for that, she needed to go back to the abandoned classroom that she found her in. She was sure the 'Marindernia' who attacked Harry wouldn't be there; the real one signed up to leave the school for the holidays. It would be difficult and it would mean that she needed to leave to go there at midnight without being seen, so she planned on asking Harry for his invisibility cloak. How she was to do that and not make him get too suspicious was beyond her.

            Hermione left her dorm after a few minutes of thinking about half-an-hour before the feast would start.

            It appeared that many had decided to wait for Harry too, wondering how well he did with his recovery; people were scattered everywhere. A few Ravenclaws were sipping steaming mugs in the corner and the remaining Slytherins were talking in whispers in the corner while the Gryfindors celebrated in the other. 

Hermione sighed and slumped into a chair at the table where nobody would notice her, twirling her new necklace Harry gave her between her fingers. She wished Harry would hurry; she was starting to think about what Ron said and if she believed it. She needn't worry or wait long, because there was a sudden rush of people crowding through the door. Harry walked inside, and he didn't get far before he was engulfed by the horde of waiting boys and girls, asking him questions and thumping him on the back in happiness.

Hermione watched as Harry, who was now wearing his school robes rather than nightclothes, walked over to her, a huge grin on his face. It faded at once, seeing Hermione's face.

            "Something wrong?" he asked her, taking off the wreath and putting it on the table, "You still aren't mad at Ron, are you??"

            "Never mind me… how're you feeling?" interrupted Hermione, not wanting to lie and say that she wasn't angry.

            "Better," smiled Harry, but his eyebrows were raised.

"Listen, we better go before everyone leaves. I bet everyone's in the hall already," said Hermione, quickly getting up and marching ahead of Harry to the portrait. Harry followed, staring at the back of Hermione's head very suspiciously.

            They followed a group of Hufflepuffs out the common room and down the corridor to the Grand Hall. Hermione was amazed how well Harry recovered. They just passed the place were he lay bloody and mangled a week and a half ago, and now he looked very well, except for a few minor scratches here and there and his still bandaged arm. He was smiling, which was definitely an improvement.

            They entered the Grand Hall, which was mostly empty. There was only one table available to sit at, which was the Nockdernian one in the middle; there wasn't many students staying for the holidays, so it was obvious that there was no need for the use of all tables. Hermione could see that many people were already sitting – most were gawking at Harry.

            "There isn't many places, are there?" said Hermione curiously, looking around for places to sit.

            "I suppose some couldn't leave because they live too far away," said Parvati, who was just coming up behind them, "Pity."

Harry and Hermione stood for a moment, looking around, until Hagrid waved them over from a spot at the end of the table, where, unfortunately, most people were sitting. They trudged over to him.

            "Harry, how're you feelin'?" Hagrid boomed from across the table. Hermione was very much aware of the staring eyes from all directions. She felt her face burn in anger.

            "Much better, thanks," answered Harry, smiling. He glanced at the several others, all whom were from either Dryconderoga or Nockdernia, sitting across from Hagrid. They stared back at him. "D'you mind if we-" he didn't need to say anything more. They all shuffled down the bench to make room for both of them to sit. "Er… thanks," said Harry.

            "So what have you been doing, Hagrid?" Hermione asked him to make conversation once they had sat down, Hermione next to Harry and Harry next to a very short Nockdernian boy. She thought if Harry had something to talk about, he wouldn't think much about all the eyes in his direction.

            "Bin' keepin' our Dragon amused in his paddock," said Hagrid, as though the topic thrilled him, "Yeh need teh keep 'em busy, or they'll get bored rigid and have tantrums."

            As much as Hermione was trying not to picture that enormous dragon on the Dryconderoga grounds having tantrums, she couldn't help notice that many others were interested in their conversation.

            "You've been keeping that Dragon in a _paddock?_" said Harry in disbelief.

            "Sure, why not? He won' leave," smiled Hagrid, his beady eyes shinning enthusiastically. Harry, his mouth open in astonishment, was about to add something, but a loud, excited voice was heard by everyone at the other end of the table. Siamoen, who was wearing red and green robes for a change and a strange hat with a wire holding a clove of mistletoe on it, spoke so everyone could hear.

            "Well, it's the holidays!" he cried, "And we must celebrate! We have quite a night planned for you all. There's no reason to go home, you'll have just as much fun here!"

            One of the boys who were sitting a few spaces from Hagrid snorted and raised his eyes to the ceiling. He was obviously not from Hogwarts.

            "First we'll have our fantabulous feast, courtesy from our fantabulous house elves!" Harry glanced at Hermione with a smile, "So sit back and enjoy!"

            Some applauded when he sat, and when he did, the platters and trays of food came soaring through the usual door and landed on the table like Hermione had seen it everyday. The food was decorated with Christmassy coloured ribbons and garland and there seemed to be more of a selection than usual – Harry was overjoyed.    

            "All I've had all week was soggy soup and green water," he said, helping himself to some yorkshire pudding and some funny looking olives. Hermione followed suit.

            The feast was grand, despite the stares from all around. Because that Harry was sitting next to her, Hermione felt uncomfortable as well. But with the food of such a larger variety than any other day, most people had started to loose interest within the first five minutes. Even Hermione was enjoying her roast beast so much that she almost didn't hear the startling start of a conversation between a boy from across the table, who looked as thought he was a third year, and Harry.

            "So… y-you have dragons at Hogwarts?" the boy asked Harry with a bit of gravy dripping down his chin. Harry looked up at him in surprise, and the boy shrunk back a little.

            "Not all the time," answered Harry, "We've only had them twice since I started school."

            Hermione watched as the boy's eyes glistened. Some others, who were apparently his friends, listened in.

            "Yeah, you had them at the Triwizard Tournament, right? I read it in the paper," said the boy with a little bit of enthusiasm, "What're they like?"

            Harry swallowed and took a swig from his goblet, "I know that they're slow when you're on a broom, and their tails are really sharp. And… I suppose they're a bit stupid."

            The boy laughed and jumped in his chair.

            "What about Quidditch?" asked a girl with a ribbon in her hair who was sitting next to the boy, "You play it, don't you?"

            "Of course!" said Harry with a grin, "I'm a seeker for my house Gryffindor. Do you play?"

            "Only forever!" gasped the girl who's eyes were glistening now, "My father taught me when I was five and I've been really good at it ever since. I'm a chaser for my house in Nockdernia," she leaned over the table, "And… I heard that you were the youngest player in a century at Hogwarts!"

            "I started in my first year," said Harry, "In my first match I swallowed the snitch. We won after only a few minutes."

            Hermione smiled, remembering that time. She was hanging out of the stands right after she had set Snape's robes on fire, watching for Harry. She saw him being sick in the middle of the pitch and coughing up a tiny winged ball. Then the whistle sounded.

            "That's brilliant!" squealed the girl.

            "Me and my friends thought you would act really awful if we tried to speak with you," added the boy, who had obviously taken a new outlook on Harry, "I thought you had a really bad temper, with all that You-Know-Who business and the tournament going on."

            Harry and Hermione glanced at each other with raised eyebrows.

            "He's not bad tempered at all. I'm sure you've had a few bad days once in a while, right?" said Hermione so Harry couldn't answer. The boy and girl nodded in agreement, a little too vigorously, it seemed to Hermione.

            "I'm Wade, by the way. Wade Warner," said the boy, sticking out his pudgy hand for Harry to shake, "And this is Mamie Shandrock."

            "Pleasure!" giggled the girl, also shaking Harry's hand.

            Although Harry seemed a bit uncomfortable, he shook the girl's hand too, "This is my best friend-"  
            "-Hermione Granger," Wade finished for him, "I know. I read that fantastic article in the paper this morning!"

            Hermione thought mostly everyone had seen that article already. Perhaps that was one of the reasons Harry was getting so much attention from strangers.

            "Oh. Well, how else do you know me?" Hermione asked him. She stared at him in surprise as he snickered into his hand, which had encouraged Mamie to giggle as well.

            "We also know you as Harry Potter's _girlfriend,_" they said in between giggles. Hermione's mouth fell open and her face burned. But Harry didn't really seem to hear what they had said. He was looking across the hall at something, and just as Hermione was about to say something back, he elbowed her in the ribs.

            "_Ouch! _What was that for?" 

            "Sorry," he apologized quickly without looking at her. Hermione, who had a hand on her side, looked over as well, "Looks like someone decided to join in on the feast."

            It was Silversmith. Wearing heavy robes of fur, he had just walked through the Grand Hall doors, making snow blow everywhere. Everyone jumped as he door slammed shut. Hermione watched as the bulky man crossed the hall to the professor's table, walking as thought he had a stone in his boot. But when Hermione looked closer, she realized that he was limping. 

            Silversmith hobbled all the way to the end of the table, where Dumbledore was sitting with Professor Kohl and Siamoen. He said a few words to him, and Hermione thought she saw - she blinked a few times to make sure – Dumbledore scowl at him in a very angry manner. So did the other headmaster and headmistress. Silversmith, nodded at something Dumbledore said and left the Grand Hall down the nearest corridor.

            "That's strange," said Wade thoughtfully, watching Silversmith leave.

            "What's strange?" Harry asked him.

            "That man was at the Ministry a few days ago. My dad works there… assistant for the Minister," he answered, "He caused quite a stir."

            "What for?"

            "I dunno," said Wade, "Why, do you know who he is?"

            "He's out Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor," answered Hermione, and Wade raised his eyebrows.

            "But I read that position was cursed!"

            "It is," replied Harry dryly, and then muttered in Hermione's ear, "We've better keep on eye on him."

            But Silversmith hadn't re-appeared for the feast. Harry and Hermione kept looking at the place where he left, but he didn't return to sit at the end of the table with the other Professors. 

The feast turned out to be quite enjoyable after Harry and Hermione had met Wade and Mamie; it was like with all the others who didn't know Harry watching, it dawned on them that Harry was only human. The questions for Harry continued from others down the table from them; Hermione lowered her head, while pretending to eat when really, she was red with mirth.

It was when the platters and dishes were cleared when Hermione remembered about her plan that needed Harry's invisible cloak. 

"Uh… Harry," stuttered Hermione, unsure how to ask him and not make it sound suspicious. Harry looked at her, "C-can I bor-"

But Siamoen had interrupted her.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your attention." everyone went quiet, "Now that we've all feasted, I'd like to suggest that this is your holiday, and you should have fun! You may roam the castle, wander outside, do whatever your heart desires. It's your free time. I only ask you to remain on the grounds."

Everyone left the tables and left through the many exits. Harry and Hermione, however, remained seated, looking around. They were hoping to see Silversmith show, since the feast was over, but he hadn't.

"Well, it was very nice to meet you, Harry and Hermione," said Wade as his friends were pulling him from the table, "See you later!" He disappeared down a corridor to the right of the hall. Hagrid, too, bid them goodbye with the reason of feeding his dragon some leftover bones that were the size of a dinosaur's. This left Harry and Hermione alone with a few of the professors. 

"What do you want to do now?" Harry asked Hermione as they stood.

"Er… maybe we could go for a walk?" suggested Hermione, hoping that she'd have some time to ask him to borrow his cloak, "I haven't seen all of the grounds yet."

Harry agreed, and they left for their dormitory to gather their heavy cloaks. After a few minutes, they crossed the Grand hall, bundled in layers of warmth, and left the castle.

The grounds looked pretty much the same when Hermione looked out her window that morning, except some of the snow had fallen off the branches. People were scattered everyone, some throwing snowballs and some building snow castles. A few first years were chasing a tall three-legged bird - that resembled a peacock, more than anything – below some snow-covered fir trees a far ways off. Harry and Hermione strolled down the slopping lawn and walked along a slippery lane that would eventually lead to the edge of the grounds.

"So Silversmith went to the Ministry," said Harry thoughtfully, tightening the cloak around him, "D'you know anything about that?"

"None whatsoever," sighed Hermione, "I mean, what would he be doing there anyway? And causing a disturbance… Fudge would've been furious."

Hermione glanced at Harry. His lips were in a thin line and his eyebrows were together. He didn't like Cornelius Fudge much; the two of them somewhat had a sudden grudge against each other from what happened last year with Voldemort and Cedric Diggory. Fudge had claimed that Harry's scar – and Hermione had thought the idea was completely absurd – was causing him to act delusional and mad. It was partly because of Rita Skeeter's completely fictitious 'Harry Potter Disturbed and Dangerous' article and his own misguided fear that Voldemort was back in full power. He hated to face the truth, even if it was genuine, and the way Hermione saw it, he was a terrible Minister of Magic. Since then, he had developed a small fear of Harry.

"Our concern is Silversmith," Hermione said heavily, "and what he's been up to. We don't even know who he is."

They silently came across the frozen lake. Hermione was beginning to doubt if her plan would really work; it seemed as if there was no way of asking Harry for his cloak. Without anything to say, Hermione just kept walking along his side.

"Hermione," started Harry curiously, "what you were saying to Dumbledore after the Tournament… I don't understand it."

It took a moment for Hermione to realize what he was talking about, but with a disturbing lurch, she understood. He was still watching what was in front of him as they walked, but she could tell he was listening hard. 

"You don't know what happened on the night you were attacked, do you?" she asked him, "Tell me what you remember."

Hermione could tell he was screwing up his brain in concentration, attempting to remember whatever he could. He sighed, shook his head and said, "All I remember is walking down to the common room, then… I might've imagined it, but I saw red light. After that, I think I was knocked out… does that make sense?"

Hermione nodded slowly, "It makes perfect sense, Harry."

"So… you know something then," said Harry quietly, looking at her, "Hermione, I need to know what you know."

They came across the back entrance of the castle where Harry sat on the cold, stone steps in front of it and gestured Hermione to do the same. Hermione was afraid of this. She had to tell Harry everything now. She really didn't want to, but with Harry's eyes watching her eagerly, she had no choice.

"It may sound far-fetched-"

"I can believe anything right now, Hermione, and I know better of you than for you to lie," urged Harry. Hermione swallowed hard and began to tell him everything, from the time where she pretended to be ill the point where Dumbledore carried him away in a stretcher, Harry's eyes growing wider with everything she said. Hermione felt sympathy for him, telling him what had happened to him when he didn't know. But there was something in his eyes, Hermione noticed, that made her think that he believed and understood every word of the disbelieving and incredulous story she was reliving for him. It was just like when she told Dumbledore her story.

"I've seen Marindernia, Harry, and she's acting perfectly normal. She doesn't know what she did," Hermione finished.

            Hermione stayed perfectly silent as Harry thought it all over. A hand on his chin and his elbow on his knee, he looked at Hermione, "And I reckon you're willing to do something about it?"

            Hermione watched him curiously, "What do you mean?"

            "By the looks of it, you have a plan. You've been nervous all day," smiled Harry, "So what is it?"

            He knows too much, thought Hermione wearily. Nevertheless, she was glad he knew. That way, Harry, the bravest out of himself, Ron and Hermione, could accompany her. She swore she'd never return to the classroom where she found Marindernia, but now she really had a reason to.

            "Ok, here's what I was thinking," started Hermione eagerly, edging forwards so she could whisper and Harry could still hear, "There should be a celebration at around late sundown, but we mustn't go to that. If we could use your invisibility cloak, we could stay in the common room with it hidden until midnight. Then I can lead us to the classroom I found Marindernia in," she swallowed, "With a bit of luck, we'll find something there that could give us a hint on what's going on."

            "D'you think Marindernia would be there again?" Harry asked her slowly.

            Hermione really didn't know the answer, nor did she want to know. What if Marindernia was waiting for them? Harry was obviously her only intention of hurting, and if he does get caught… there goes another two week or more in the infirmary. Either way, Harry's face was set. He obviously realized the answer.

            "Well go prepared, then," he said.

            Hermione starred at him for a long moment, frowning. She hadn't forgotten their long talk in the infirmary, nor should Harry.

            "And… I'll try not to interfere with her. If she's there, I'll stay out of her way," said Harry. A smile was just visible at the corners of his mouth.

            "Promise?"

            "I promise."

**…~'*'~…**

There were cheers and hollers coming from the Grand Hall loud enough to make the clouds of snow shudder in the sky. Hermione had crossed the hall with Harry when it was near dark, trying not to make heads turn and questions asked to where they were going, but it was difficult. Most of everyone had given up on snowball fights to bask in the warmth inside. Eventually, they made it to the common room, which was unsurprisingly empty. 

            As Harry ran to his dorm to fetch his invisibility cloak, Hermione waited in one of the armchairs by the fire, since she had never sat there before; the Slytherins normally occupied the entire end of the room where she was. Soon after, Harry arrived, panting slightly.

            "I haven't used this thing in a while," he said, collapsing in one of the armchairs opposite of Hermione, tucking the silvery cloak into his pocket "but I'm glad I will." 

"D'you think we'll run into someone?" Hermione asked him nervously, "I mean, none of the Professors will be celebrating, will they?"

But Harry, looked strangely confident.

"I said we'd go prepared," said Harry, smiling as he put it back into his cloak.

They didn't have much of a choice on what to do until midnight. Harry's watch said it was almost eleven once they had decided to start a game of chess, and nearly fifteen minutes had passed when they had finished three rounds of it. Soon, they had gotten bored and only pretended to play when people walked by.

Hermione stared into the fire after a while of sitting silently. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt more anxious. What they were doing meant breaking about a hundred rules and Hermione didn't need another detention. On top of it all… there was still the fact that Marindernia, or whatever was controlling her, wanted Harry's blood. It made Hermione shiver with fright at the thought.

Soon Harry spoke up.

"Hermione," he said, making Hermione jump. He was staring into the fire as well, "I was just thinking... about the Anika Ball. I can't remember it much, but when I went outside to the garden to talk to Ron about-" he paused and sighed deeply, "Ron told me something that I already knew."

Hermione watched him carefully, but yet, Harry didn't take his eyes off the fire. 

"I realized it when we came here to Dryconderoga," continued Harry. Hermione thought she was imagining it, but she almost saw a smile on his face, "I really liked what Ron told me and… you might think it's mad… but I think I-"

He didn't finish. It wasn't that he couldn't; it was that the doors of the common room burst open and people from the celebrations came bellowing inside. Harry finally took his eyes off the fire to look at them. Then he checked his watch.

"Hermione," he gasped, "It's midnight!"

They both jumped to their feet. 

"Where were you two?" asked Justin Finch-Fletchley, who had just emerged into the room, "You missed the cake and sweets!"

"We didn't feel like going," said Harry hurriedly.

"Yeah," said Justin, smiling "Sure thing, Harry." 

Harry narrowed his eyes at him, but before he could say anything, Justin had gone.

"Oh, forget him, Harry!" said Hermione in panic. She seized his arm and dragged him to the door. Once the stragglers had entered, they both slipped through the door before it closed.

"OK," said Hermione nervously, "We mustn't take long or someone'll get suspicious. We'll use your cloak when we get to the hall. For now, just follow me."

Harry nodded and they set off.

The corridors were very dark, but the windows high above let in some moonlight, just enough that Hermione could see where she was going. Trying to remember where exactly the abandoned classroom was, she gripped her wand inside her pocket, and led the way to the end of the corridor. 

The stone basilisks cast enormous shadows across the floor and the noises – the squeaking floorboards, the suits of armor and the snoring portraits – seemed magnified somehow. They passed several classrooms until they came to a landing with a wide opening, and at the end of it was dim light.

Hermione looked behind her at Harry; he pressed a finger against his lips and nodded very slightly. Slightly bent-backed, they edged along the wall and peer past the wall.

Below them was the marble staircase entering the Grand Hall. The four long lines of tables were replaced for tomorrow's meals and it looked as though there weren't celebrations there at all. Hermione narrowed her eyes to see that there, walking down one of the rows, was Filch in his enormous overcoat, holding a lamp in his trembling hand. He was grunting and sounding very angry indeed.

"I've had enough of it, I tell you. Too many ruddy kids. Someone ought to get rid of 'em," he spat, kicking a table leg, then grunting in pain, "'The other caretaker's away on holidays' he says. Rubbish! I'll show him lack of respect…"          

Harry and Hermione watched him stumble all the way across the hall, then leave through a door, slamming it loudly. Hermione gulped – this was it.

She felt Harry cover them both with his invisibility cloak. Then, with a frightening jolt, she heard Harry whisper in her ear-

"Let's go."

They hurried down the staircase, careful not to tread on the cloak, and Hermione lead them to the corridor on their right. They walked as fast as they could without making any noise to the end of the passage and traveled down another corridor, passing classrooms and creaking suits of armor as they went. Then, with a horrible lurch in her stomach, Hermione found what they were looking for.

The classroom was just several paces away, but as far as Hermione could see, it didn't look all that dangerous. She pointed it out to Harry, and they crept towards it.

 Harry turned the brass knob and the door creaked open, revealing the old, abandoned classroom that Hermione swore she wouldn't enter. But Harry, who looked very eager, took the cloak off them and walked inside, pulling her gently by the arm as he went. 

The classroom didn't look any different then the last time Hermione was there. The filthy up-turned desks and shelved books hadn't moved from their places and Hermione noticed that her dusty footprints were covered over again with dust. Harry took out his wand.

"Lumos," he muttered, and his wand tip lit up, "Where was she?" he asked Hermione quietly. Hermione pointed a trembling finger to the back door of the classroom that lead to the storage room. Harry nodded and he, with Hermione gripping his arm very tightly, approached it, guiding the wand light ahead of them.

Harry kicked open the door and found – nothing. Marindernia wasn't there, and more astonishing to Hermione was that the books that were thrown to the floor from the wind she created were all back in their shelves, misplaced from what Hermione had seen before. It looked as though someone had randomly put them back, but rather ruthlessly.

"She was floating in mid-air right there," Hermione breathed, pointing to the middle of the room. They both crept inside to look around. Hermione let go of Harry's arm.

"It doesn't look like anything happened," said Harry, who was investigating the bookcase.

Hermione felt the floor with her foot for a possible trap door.

"I don't know what happened. It was right here, but this room changed. I think someone was here to put it back together."

They spent a few moments investigating the bookshelves and walls for any trickery possible, under Harry's wand light, but nothing was worth the worry. Hermione didn't know what happened.

"I swear this is the room," she said rather uncertainly, "You do believe me, don't you?"

"Of course I do." said Harry reasonably, "It's just odd, isn't it? How everything's normal again?" he sighed, "Are you sure this is the right classroom?"

Hermione bit her lip, thinking hard.

"I-I think so…"

After a few more minutes of searching everything they could see, they left the back room. Hermione sat on one of the dusty, up-turned desks, wondering. What had happened?

"Nobody couldn't have seen you, everyone was at the task then. So how could anyone tidy this all up without knowing you and Marindernia were here?" thought Harry aloud, "I think you might've seen the last of her. Unless-" he looked at Hermione, "Reckon we should check the other classrooms?"

Hermione nodded sulkily. They got under Harry's cloak again and left the classroom, silently shutting the door behind them. They carefully crept to the next classroom. They opened the door, entered and looked around, but Hermione didn't recognize that one as the abandoned classroom either. They did this for several classrooms down the corridor, but none of them fitted Hermione's profile of the right classroom. Every room had the books neatly tucked in the shelves and the back rooms were organized, unlike the one Hermione saw Marindernia in. Yet every classroom they checked looked as though it were deserted years ago.

They came to the second last of the classrooms. They entered, yet it wasn't the right one either. Hermione was getting frustrated.

"I know it was this corridor!" she said angrily, "The classroom has to be here somewhere!"

"There's one more classroom left. She might be in there," said Harry sensibly.

But Hermione knew there was no luck that what she was looking for was in the next room. What chance was there of that?

"It's hopeless!"

She started to pace the room, racking her brain in thought.

"Maybe we should tell Sirius about this all," said Hermione quickly, talking to herself more than Harry, "I bet he'll know what to do. I just hope he'll believe me… you're the only one who does, besides Dumbledore. But he knows everything. What do you think, Harry?"

She looked around at him.

"Harry?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he was facing the wall, starring at a portrait of a hag. At least that's what Hermione thought at first.

"Hermione," he whispered so quietly that Hermione had to come nearer to hear him, "I hear someone."

Hermione approached the wall, listening… but heard nothing.

"Are you sure?"

She wasn't sure if he was pulling her leg, just to frighten her. Soon, Harry's eyes were growing wide.

"You mean… you can't hear that?"

"No!" said Hermione loudly, "Look, Harry, if your joking with me-"

She couldn't continue, for with a quick motion, Harry pressed his hand over her mouth from behind. She felt his unsteady breath on her neck.

"It stopped," he whispered, "He heard you."

Hermione hadn't seen Harry look so alarmed all year, and she was astonished to realize that… this was surely no joke. Uncovering her mouth, he dashed for the door, dragging Hermione along with him. They ran out of the classroom, slamming the door shut, this time not careful to make any noise. It was all so odd and unexpected, but Hermione knew better than to protest. All she knew was that something wasn't right and that she must follow Harry as quickly as she could. The reason why would soon become apparent - the sound of a door banging open behind them echoed down the corridor.

They ran all the way to the end of the second corridor, and when they were just about to skid into the Grand Hall, Harry stopped so abruptly that Hermione ran right into him. She looked up, and saw, unexpectedly, a shadow of a person on the wall coming towards them.

There wasn't enough time to use the invisibility cloak. Nevertheless, they flattened themselves against the nearest wall, held their breath and waited.

Hermione really wished she had night-vision to see in the dark, for she could hardly see them approach. Whoever it was swept right past them, and Hermione squinted to see that it was – Silversmith, wearing his nightclothes and holding his wand readily. He marched, rather unsteadily (his leg was obviously still injured), right past them and down the corridor they had came from.

"What is he doing?" breathed Hermione in horror, seeing that Silversmith broke into a run. He disappeared from view soon after.

"Come on!" said Harry.

They hurried out the corridor, dashed up the staircase that led to the Hogwart's dormitories and ran as fast as they could, not looking back. Hermione was ready to collapse in exhaustion once the dormitory door appeared in view. Once there, they threw themselves against the door and stumbled inside. 

There, in the deserted dormitory, Hermione and Harry each collapsed into armchairs, panting and wheezing. They didn't talk for several minutes, and even if they tried, they found that they couldn't. There was too much adrenaline running through their blood and from the fear that they felt came waves of coldness. Once again, Hermione found herself swearing that she'd never again go into one of those abandoned classrooms.

"Harry," said Hermione breathlessly after nearly ten minutes, "What was that all about?"

Harry didn't answer right away. The burning embers from the fire lit his apprehensive face.

"I'm… not quite sure yet."

After a few more moments, he added, "It's obvious, isn't it? I heard someone talking in the next classroom from the one we where in, and you didn't."

"Well… what did they say?" Hermione asked him.

"It was blurry," said Harry, putting his face in his hands and elbows on his knees, "Something about… a curse, or someone destroying it. And… a murder."

Hermione starred.

"That happened in out second year, remember? You heard that basilisk in the pipes when no one else could," said Hermione, "But hearing that now… that's ridiculous! There can't possibly be any basilisks in the school!"

"Not a basilisk. It was human," said Harry, "There's no chance of that."

"Then it had to be a person. But the only people I've read about who speaks parseltongue is you and…"

Harry raised his head and nodded very slowly, his eyes unmoving on Hermione's.

"Voldemort."

**…~'*'~…**

**A/N: **It may be a little shorter than the last chapter, but it's as much as I could write. But I did double-check it for mistakes (thanks goodness I did. I found a mistake that said 'a fart ways off' instead of 'a far ways off') and I also corrected most mistakes in the other chapters before this one, including the IMPERIOUS AND IMPEDIMENTA mistakes! And… don't hate me… I didn't get the artwork done. Well, I did do some art for this story, but it isn't a pic of Harry, Marindernia and Tisroc. It's only of Marindernia, actually. Here's the link ---             http://www.geocities.com/lady_darkshine/marindernia          I really hope you like it!

Anyways, I came back from camping a week ago… but I kinda didn't want to. One of my cats got locked into my living room and our temporary housekeeper didn't realize it… you fill in the blanks. But now, everything's normal again, only school starts in 2 days *sigh* Oh well. Summer was good while it lasted!

By the way… I really used to like Eminem and his music.('Hey Eminem! I will hit a man with major issues.' Sincerely, Meg) 


	17. Third Task Nightmares

_Thefly: _Mr. Fly… you are an eager one, aren't you? Hope this chapter will make you happy!

_Looking4Orli:_ Thanks a bunch!

_Awry Redbird:_ Tisk, Tisk. You need to sign in, missy. (JK!) Is that the word you choose? Sinister? My, how positively correct you are! Thanks!

_Holly:_ *hug* You like my cliffhangers? *sob* Actually, it's been a while since anyone complained about them 0_o; Oh well!

_XT-Zealot:_ Just read this chapter and see how interesting it gets!

_E.C.R Potter:_ I feel as though you're my English Professor, but that's not bad (he's pretty cool, actually. He calls our hall pass a 'pee card'.) Thanks sssooooo much for pointing out those mistakes in the last chapter! (I don't know if you've stopped reading this story or not. I would, if I were you, If I found such a stupid mistake *sigh*) I fixed them a day after I posted the chapter. Thanks again!

_Freda Potter:_ Is Freda the female version of Fred? *mind roaming alert, mind roaming alert* Anyways, thanks a bunch!

_DragonBlond_04:_ I hope you're still speaking with me… at least in e-mail form. But about your request… I can't really do it unless you want the story to be out-of-place. Let me explain… I've got all the ideas, names, places, what will happen in the future and ending of this story roughly sketched on paper and is sitting in a very safe place in my desk. And I desperately need to get off the Christmas scene. I've been in it for three chapters already! If you want a story with Harry and Hermione in a 'romantic' snowball fight, you'll just have to mosey on down to my other story called 'Hermione and the Snow Day'. Trust me… many people have tried to butter me up, and it hasn't worked yet, but nice try! It's exactly the way you described it to be. I apologize and hope that you don't bite my head off ^_^; Thanks!

_Max Lonewolf: _*snort* Ms. NutMeg? *roars with laughter until someone kicks her in the shins* Ouch! *snicker* NutMeg… that's golden. Anyways, I meant that the H/H would be in this chapter… and A LOT in the chapter after this one *eyes glisten* And…wait. _You've got your own place?_ *growl* Do you have a sister or a brother? If you do… be glad you can get away from them… I'm less fortunate. One more year to go, Meg, calm down. Thanks a bunch!

                                                                                                                                                         From me, a Canadian, eh? You hoser. (It's the beer talking.)

**…~'*'~…**

Hermione stood alone in a grassy clearing in a nightgown that rippled in the light wind. She could barely see two feet in front it of her because of fog; lengths of both tall and short slabs of rock lay on the ground ahead, and if she were to take a careful step forwards, she'd surely stumble and fall. Her startled eyes looked around her surrounding; a forest to the back, a small, dirt path on both sides below an old, abandoned shack and a tall mound of earth in front. 

            A tall mound of earth in front of her… with light behind it. Brilliant light that created shadows and vibrant reflections of whatever it was creating it. And there was a sound… a beautiful song that made Hermione shiver. The inhuman noise was coming from above somewhere. It was a lure, enticing her to come closer, to step forward.

            The song was unlike anything she had ever heard. Hermione didn't hesitate; stepping forwards, the wind running through her hair, she climbed up the grassy mound to the source of the sound.

            Hermione flattened herself on her stomach, her hands gripping the cold grass to pull herself up. Reaching the very top of the mound, she watched what was on the other side.

            The music had stopped and the fog had disappeared when she laid her eyes on the bizarre scene in front of her. Her eyes widened with fear; there were men – tall, sinister men in black, hooded cloaks, crowding in a circle. They looked suspiciously like Dementors. The light she saw came from a source she could not quite put her finger on. And she realized… they were standing in a graveyard. Why, she did not know. But the tall men were looking very intrigued at what they were watching.

            Hermione, who had gone temporarily frozen at that moment, knew that she was in the wrong place. There was no way she could investigate and leave unhurt. And she hadn't mastered the correct charm to fend Dementors off, either. But if Harry were here, wherever 'here' was…

            Without hesitation, Hermione released the grass and tumbled down the hill. She landed at the bottom of it, and stood, brushing the dirt off herself. Without looking back, she started to run… but found that she couldn't. She tried with all her might, but her feet stayed where they were. _What's going on,_ she thought in horror, _they'll see me if I don't hurry!_ She looked down at her immovable feet and realized that they weren't touching the ground at all: _she was floating._

            She steadily rose a few more feet higher and soon, Hermione was looking at the ground, ten feet below her. Her entire body started to move. With a scream, Hermione found herself floating back from where she came, gaining altitude all the time. She tried to move, to stop herself, but whatever was controlling her didn't like struggle. She gained more speed.

            Hermione stopped resisting for a moment to find that she was soaring above the heads of the towering Dementors now. Her dangling feet barely touched the tops of their heads. She floated all the way to the centre of the circle they were in, and then, from an area of her lower back, she felt the resistance leave her. She shrieking in terror, covering her face with her trembling hands and waiting for the worst, as her body fell to the ground.

            It didn't come. In fact, she didn't land hard at all. Hermione feet her feet land delicately on the ground, yet she couldn't move her legs or arms; they felt as if they were tied to her sides. But she could move her head, which she did, to look around her.

She was surrounded. Not by Dementors, but humans. Their faces had flesh and colour and life in them, unlike the hollow bones of Dementors. But their faces… some of them were familiar. Crabbe, Goyle, McNair, Lucius Malfoy... they were all there, wearing the dark cloaks, their eerie faces smiling insanely from under their hoods. It was then, is a horrible lurch in her stomach, that Hermione realized that she wasn't surrounded by Dementors. _They were Death Eaters._

            _Oh no,_ thought Hermione in indescribable horror, resisting against the invisible bonds holding her together, _not this… anything but this!_

            She stopped herself. She heard a muffle… a very agonized muffle, and looking from where it was coming from, she found someone she hadn't seen before. A more familiar face than Crabbe or Goyle. 

Harry was there, tied to a headstone, a piece of cloth gagging his mouth, his robes ripped and torn and bloody in some places and his eyes narrowed at the men circling him. But his face… his face was red and his teeth were grinding – his scar was throbbing in pain. He looked so much younger, but there was no mistaking him.

"Harry!" Hermione cried in astonishment, trying more than ever to free herself and forgetting that there were Death Eaters surrounding them, _"HARRY!"_

She stopped herself. The Death Eaters, who were completely oblivious of her screaming, were concentrating on a movement from the depths of the Death Eaters. Hermione watched too. It was a man, the tallest man out of all them, who had walked forwards, away from Hermione and the crowd of death eaters to Harry, who's muffles of pain were growing hoarse. He was incredibly thin and his hand, which was protruding from the sleeve of his cloak, was white and bony. Hermione couldn't recognize this man from behind. He started speaking, in an icy, inhuman voice Hermione had never heard before:

            "You know, of course, that they have called this boy my downfall?" it hissed, making the hairs on the back or Hermione's neck stand on end, "You all know that on the night I lost my powers and my body, I tried to kill him. His mother died in the attempt to save him – and unwittingly provided him with a protection I admit I had not foreseen… I could not touch the boy."

            Hermione didn't know what the man was doing. He stood next to Harry and raised one of his long, white fingers to put very close to Harry's cheek, "His mother left upon him the traces of her sacrifice. This old magic… I should have remembered it, I was foolish to overlook it… but no matter. I can touch him now."

            He ran the tip of his bony finger across Harry's face. Harry looked as though he wanted to scream in pain, but he couldn't. He couldn't do anything if he wanted. The man that had touched him, the man that made his scar burn… he laughed softly in his ear and turned. He turned so Hermione could see his face, his bony face and his red eyes and shallow skin. He turned to Hermione so she could make out just whom he was.

            _Lord Voldemort._ He was talking to Harry about how he had defeated him when tried to kill young Harry and how Harry had the protection of his mother that Voldemort hadn't recognized. He started speaking still, in a low voice, circling Harry, who had let his head fall to his chest in exhaustion. He was gagging Harry, making Harry suffer… all for revenge. It all seemed recognizable… and just when Hermione was putting the pieces together… she realized something. This was the Third Task in the Triwizard Tournament. Sure enough, the dead body of Cedric Diggory was at Harry's feet. His eyes had rolled to the back of his head and his skin was as pale as death. Hermione felt as if her stomach disappeared. Her mouth was open in a silent scream, but her heart was pounding as if it were about to leap out of her chest.

            "I used my Death Eater to ensure that the boy won the Tournament – that he touched the Triwizard Cup first – the Cup which my Death Eater had turned into a Portkey, which would bring him here, beyond the reach of Dumbeldore's help and protection, and into my waiting arms. And here he is… the boy you all believed had been my downfall…"

            Voldemort slowly stepped forwards, facing Harry. Hermione knew what was about to happen. She dreaded it, but yet, found that she couldn't protest. Her voice was gone. 

            Voldemort raised his wand.

            _"Crucio!"_

            Hermione watched with staring eyes as the unforgivable curse erupted from the end of Voldemort's wand tip… and hit Harry in the chest. His mouth opened… and he let out the most horrible noise Hermione could ever imagine possible. He screamed so loudly and yelled for so long that Hermione burst into tears.

She finally found her voice.

            "HARRY! HHHHHHHAAAARRRRRRRYYYYYY! NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

            _Flump._ She fell to the floor, her bedspread twisted all around her, her legs and arms thrashing about. Her closed eyes were red and wet, but she was still screaming his name, "HAAARRRRRYYYY! NOOOO! PLEASE STOP! PLEASE!"

            The image of Harry screaming, the Death Eaters watching and Voldemort with his wand still pointed, an insane laugh erupting from his near-inhuman lips all disappeared with a swirl of colour.

            "Hermione! Hermione, what's wrong!"

"Somebody warn the Matron in the Infirmary! Hurry!"

            "Stop screaming! Someone's coming!"

            She heard new voices, familiar voices very near wherever she was. Her arms and legs were being pushed around and held down.

            "HARRY! WHAT HAPPENED? WHERE ARE YOU?" Hermione screamed desperately into the darkness.

            "What are you taking about?" said a voice above her head.

            Hermione opened her eyes to discover that she was lying on the floor next to her four-poster. Ginny, Lavender and Parvati were surrounding her, all wearing their nightclothes, holding her to the ground to stop her flailing arms. The girl's dorm quickly came in focus and she realized… it wasn't dark at all. Someone had lit a lantern.

            "HARRY! WHERE IS HE?"

            "He's not here, Hermione! What's wrong?" said Lavender, her eyes wide and staring.

            Harry wasn't there. He wasn't with her. Hermione burst into another wave of tears. She covered her face with her hands and cried like a little lost child. _He's not here_, she thought, _he's still there… with him._ Her friends were trying to calm her down, but she backed herself into her nightstand. She heard voices all around her now. There were shadows entering the room between her fingers and closed eyes.

            But then… an arm was slipping behind her back and another at the back of her legs; someone was picking her up. She felt a rising sensation, and she was placed on something soft and comfortable. Her feet skimmed the ground and pair of hands were gently holding her knees together in case she hurt herself. Still crying, tears streaming down her face, she looked between her fingers at whoever put her in this restful place.

            For one miraculous moment, Hermione thought she slipped back into that horrible nightmare; Harry was kneeling in front or her, his hands on her knees and a very worried expression on his face. Ginny, Lavender, Parvati and Ron were behind him and from the corner of her eye, she could see people crowding inside to see what was the matter. Hermione was thrown into another wail of dismay.

            _"Harry!"_ she bawled, collapsing on him, breaking down completely "It was h-h-horrible! Cedric was d-d-dead! You-Know-Who was t-there! A-and he… he hurt you so b-b-_badly!"_

            Harry, who was obviously surprised at her sudden behavior, caught his breath for a moment from the blow of Hermione hitting him in the chest so suddenly. Then he put his arms around her, desperately trying to calm her.

            "Shhh," Harry told her quietly, "You had a nightmare, Hermione. Please calm down." 

            And she did. Harry was very much near her, his hands stroking her hair in an attempt to calm her, and evidently, her shoulders stopped trembling from her sobs. Her eyes didn't sting anymore, and her stomach had settled. And slowly, very slowly, she released Harry and raised her head from his shoulder, which had a wet patch on it.

            She sniffed a few times, but Harry was examining her shoulder. He carefully pulled on the fabric and paled. Hermione couldn't understand; she looked at the spot Harry was tending to, and realized – it was a wonder why she didn't notice it before – there was a large tear in her nightgown, and whatever it was that cut her went right to the skin. Blood was saturated over her entire shoulder.

            "Come on, Hermione," said Harry, standing and pulling her to her feet, "You need to get to the Infirmary."

            She didn't object. With Ron, who was white under his freckles, following, Harry helped Hermione out of the dormitory. People backed away to let them through, a few of them whispering and standing on their tiptoes to get a better look. Hermione supposed that everyone was still in bed; the common room was deserted. When they left through the door to the corridor, she was glad that they met no one as they went.

            They finally came to the Infirmary. Ron walked ahead and pushed the door open to let them through.

            Hermione had never suddenly felt so safe that night; the rosy-faced matron, in her nightgown and hat, was standing at her desk with a little first-year Hufflepuff boy who was clearly the one who went to warn her that someone was hurt. Lanterns were lit and a hospital bed was already made. They hurried over to it.

            "What happened to the poor dear?" the Matron asked Ron as Hermione, with the help of Harry, drowsily lay onto the bed.

            "She had a nightmare and woke up screaming," Ron told her quietly, "She's got a bad cut on her arm…"

            Ron kept talking to the eager matron, whose hair was coming out of its neat little bun from her worry. They were going blurry in Hermione's vision. Her head hurt trying to focus them. But looking at Harry, who had leaned over her, she could see him perfectly. With barely open eyes, she blinked.

            "Am I s-staying here for the night?" she murmured to him. Harry nodded slowly, his jaw clenched. He kneeled next to her and took her hand.

            "She was calling my friend Harry. He's there next to her," Ron's voice said from somewhere.

            Hermione swallowed; the lights were dimming.

            "Hermione, when you wake up in the morning," Harry said to Hermione in a soft voice, his eyes looking into hers, "you can tell me what you saw. I can't explain the rest of it to you the way I wish I could. But… I'll do the best I can."

            Hermione nodded very slightly. He dropped his eyes from hers and stared at the bed sheets, gently gripping her hand.

            "I haven't seen anything like it. But just in case, I'll be sure to give her an overall checkup," said the nurse in a distant voice. She had to strain her ears to hear it this time, "I'll give her a dreamless sleeping potion for the remaining of the night."

            Hermione couldn't fight the weight pulling on her eyelids. Harry's face disappeared, and her breathing became slower and softer.

            Harry slowly released her hand and leaned in close to her… he kissed her forehead.

            "It's too late," he said, "She's already asleep."

** …~'*'~…**

"Harry!" called the redheaded boy, running to his dormitory, "Harry, you've got to get up, you great lump! Harry?"

            His eyes fell on his best friend, who was sitting on the edge of his four-poster. He was awake, but barely, and he managed to dress himself properly. 

            "We can see Hermione today, Harry," said Ron in a less enthusiastic voice, "She'll be alright, you'll see." He walked around to see him and sat on the four-poster opposite. He watched as Harry sighed heavily and put his miserable face in his hands.

            "I did it to her," he said, "I… I made her have that nightmare. I was in it."

            "I know. That's why she was calling you, wasn't it?" said Ron sensibly, "But you didn't make her have that dream. Dumbledore doesn't know either. He checked the girl's dormitory, the common room… everywhere for anything that could have done it," he smiled slightly, "I know you wouldn't dream of hurting her, Harry."

            Harry sighed again, "But she… how did she get cut? There was nothing sharp near her."

            "Nobody knows," Ron reassured, "Maybe she got cut yesterday night and didn't realize it. The matron's looking up on it, Harry. She'll be fine."

            Harry shook his head in his hands.

"Have you ever wondered what happened the night Cedric died?"

            Ron looked taken aback for a moment. They hadn't touched the subject about Cedric and the Third task; Harry wouldn't talk about it, nor Ron wouldn't dare ask questions. But he was amazed, for one moment, that Harry had finally said anything about it.

            "Er…" he said, unsure of what to say to that.

            "I know you have."

            Ron looked away. He had to admit it to himself; Harry was very much right. He always thought of what happened that night. It was because he wanted dearly to know why, who or what happened that night to make his friend so dispirited.

            "Uh… sometimes," said Ron, "Why?"

            Harry paused, "She dreamed about it. She said…  she saw Cedric dead and Voldemort. I think she saw what happened. In the graveyard."

            "A graveyard?"

            "Yes. One of Voldemort's Death Eaters made the Triwizard cup a portkey to bring me straight to Voldemort himself. And when I…" he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand roughly, "when I told Cedric to take the cup with me so we could both win… he was sent to Voldemort too."

            Ron couldn't interrupt him now, whether he didn't like the use of Voldemort's name or not. He felt that if he did… Harry would realize that he was still there and stop talking.

            "We went to the graveyard where Voldemort's parents were buried. Wormtail was there… carrying him in a bundle," continued Harry in a barely audible voice, "He killed Cedric straight away

            "Wormtail tied me up to Marvollo Riddle's gravestone so I could watch Voldemort's re-birth perfectly. Then he… took out a dagger and cut my arm to get blood… blood from the enemy. He cut off his own hand and put it all into a cauldron. And when he put what was left of Voldemort in it… it was already set. He came out from it, and summoned his Death Eaters. Crabbe, Goyle, McNair and Malfoy were there. Voldemort started talking about his history of thirteen years being alone. And then… he turned to me.

            "Seeing me tied up against his father's gravestone satisfied him. He told his Death Eaters how he couldn't touch me without getting hurt, but since he used my blood in his rebirth… he could touch me. He touched my face and my scar burned the way I never knew it could. He put the Cruciatus curse on me just so I could think he was superior. Then… Voldemort told Wormtail to untie me and give my wand back so I could duel him."

            Ron listened with batted breath; he had never heard of anything so interesting and horrible before. Harry looked as though it was taking all he had to finish.

            "I hadn't learnt any spell that could match Voldemort's. I kept ducking behind tombstones to dodge his unforgivable curses. And… I don't know what I was thinking. I tried to disarm him and he tried the killing curse. Somehow, our spells met and they tried to join one another. Dumbledore told me that our wands are brothers. I knew it when I first got my wand. Olivander told me.

            "We got carried away to a different area of the graveyard, and the Death Eaters were panicking. Our wands wouldn't let go, and there was a bead of light, coming towards me on the strand of light connecting the wands. I concentrated on moving it towards Voldemort's wand and… it disappeared in his wand tip. Voldemort started to panic because…" he hesitated, rubbed his eyes again and finished, "Bertha Jorkins, a Muggle, Cedric and my parent's ghosts all came out of his wand tip. They were the last murders Voldemort performed.

            "Cedric told me to take his body back to his parents. My mum told me not to let go of my wand and when they were all circling around Voldemort, trying to frighten him, she told me to run for it. I got through the Death Eaters and took Cedric and cup. I was brought to the Quidditch pitch right after."

            Ron watched the floor for a long while once Harry had finished. He had no idea… he thought it was just a duel. But Harry saw Cedric die right before him, and his parents. He saw his only loving relatives for a small moment.

            "Harry," he said, "I had no idea-"

            _BANG!_

He was cut off by a loud noise coming from the common room, making them both jump and look at the door. They could hear Malfoy's voice.

            "That's it! I've had it! One more prank and I'll let Dumbledore know about your canary creams, you filthy Weasels! "

            "Then you might want to stay away from that chair, Malfoy. And that fruit bowl. And the table, for that matter."

            "Yeah! And you might want to sleep on one of the sofas tonight, Malfoy. I think we forgot a few spiders in your dorm."

            Harry and Ron looked at each other.

            "I'd better go," said Ron as he got to his feet, "Before they tear each other limb from limb."

            Ron left the dorm, leaving Harry behind to mull over things. Things were going to get better. He would see Hermione soon.

            He lay back on his four-poster, feeling quite alone again. His mind drifted off to Hermione (as it usually did.) How he heard her screams, how his heart stopped beating and for one terrifying moment, he thought that he'd have one less best friend…

**…~'*'~…**

**A/N:** DUDE! Did anyone see that Family Affair show on Sept.12? Did you see the second Harry Potter COS trailer? WASN'T THE BEST THING YOU'VE EVER SEEN??? Ohhhhh… on Sunday it'll be two months exactly until the movie (66 more days for the movie and 63 more days for the soundtrack, to be exact.) And I'll be first in line to see it, thank you very much. That's right, you all! EAT MY DUST! *ahem*

            So, did you like? Than write a review! It's pain free and it won't give you heartburn. I really want to see them, peps! I'm actually asking for them now! Please?

            (By the way… I don't actually drink beer on a daily basis. It's just a funny, you see? Here, people expect us to guzzle beer by the barrels. Well, I don't, or else you wouldn't understand what I just wrote. After all… _I swear to drunk I'm not god!_

_From the 2nd trailer---_

            Lucius Malfoy- "Let us hope Mr. Potter always bears right to save the day."

            Harry-"Oh don't worry… I will be." -- My hero


	18. Sleepy Admittings of Love

**HAPPY THANKSGIVING, EVERYONE! GO FILL UP ON TURKEY**_!_

_Max Lonewolf:_ Awwwwww! Poor you! I thought you had the chance to escape the common sibling annoyance! Oh well… just think that the work will only pile up more often in University, and with our freakin' government… *sigh* Anyways, I thought the sword should have been wider too, but I kinda like the 'Harry Potter saves the day' comment they put in. And there's supposed to be another trailer coming out! It has Harry speaking Parseltongue… he sounds REALLY creepy, I've heard. Like and exorcist. (Caution: Long reply!)

_xT-Zealot:_ C'mon, now, it's not that far away! Only about 35 days left! (I've been counting down, obviously. 30 days until the soundtrack, too. That's a month!)

_E.C.R Potter:_ I'm sorry about my mistakes, Mr. Edwards, sir, I'll never do it again. *puppy dog eyes* Oh! I'm sorry, I thought you were my English teacher! But yes, poor Hermione. Well, it gets better, I tell you! Thanks for your review!

_Dragonblond: _H-homicidal? *gulp* I hope y-y-your not suggesting… I, er… uh… gotta go! *WOOSH!*

_Thefly:_ Okay, buster, just wait a moment. I'll make you a deal… you read this next chapter and take that 'they didn't get together' comment in your review back. Deal? *Grin*

**…~'*'~…**

**Okay… this is the moment you've been waiting for**… are you ready for this? Are you sure? Are you positive? Are you- *whack!* OUCH! OK, go ahead and read it ---

**…~'*'~…**

"You know, of course, that they have called this boy my downfall?" the voice hissed.

"His mother died in the attempt to save him – and unwittingly provided him with a protection I admit I had not foreseen… I could not touch the boy."

Hermione awoke, hearing the same voices and the same cruel laugh. She sat up, trembling from head to foot and sweat wetting her back. With a dawning realization, she thought _so this is what it's like to be Harry, waking up and being scared of nightmares._ But she was sure that he hadn't felt so exhausted; it took great effort for Hermione to open her eyes. They felt like bricks.

She wiped her face with the back of her hands and leaned back in her pillows again, steadying her breath. The dream wasn't as bad as she thought, but seeing that face over again… it was just too much. She had gotten her mark from going too far in her nightmare: a large gash on her shoulder. Hermione could see that someone had bandaged it under her nightdress and it was feeling a lot better now. But… how did she get it?

There couldn't have been anything sharp around her and she didn't feel anything pierce her when she woke up. Maybe it was when she fell to the ground. But there was no way that it could have bleed so much from that time to when Harry appeared. Then Hermione gasped. _Harry!_

She was about to climb out of her bed, but realized that she wasn't alone in the infirmary. She stopped in an awkward position, half off the bed and one foot touching the floor, and listened. There were voices, but they weren't coming from the room she was in. It was coming from the door to the left of her, with the morning light spreading across it. Straining her ears, she realized… the voices were coming closer!

Hermione scrabbled to her feet and hurriedly pulled the curtains around her hospital bed. Hearing the voices getting closer, she got back into a sleeping position, grinding her teeth with the pain from her shoulder. 

The door burst open and what sounded like three or four people stomped inside. They were arguing, but with the loudness of their voices, Hermione couldn't tell who they were. She could see their shadows stop at the end of her bed.

"Gentlemen, please," said a familiar voice that was trying to be heard over the rest, "We have patients in here."

It was Dumbledore. The voices stopped all at once and someone made a disgusted noise.

"As well there should be!" said a very aggravated voice that sounded immensely recognizable, "Dumbledore, this has gone far enough. I don't think that he is… suitable to be here!"

"He's perfectly well enough," said Dumbledore's voice, "and there's certainly nothing dangerous about him. You and I both know that, Cornelius."

Hermione couldn't tell what they were doing, but their shadows were slowly moving more to the right of her. With her eyes watching them, she carefully sat up on her knees to peer out of a small hole in the curtains. There, she could just see the back of someone's robes, which were bottle green. She tried with all her might to recall them…

"He may be a tad on the misguided side, but he's doing an excellent job here," said Dumbledore's voice calmly, "But if you dare put the boy's life in jeopardy, you may take him if you wish."

The three shadows were coming very close to her now. She saw a hand seizing the curtains drawn around the hospital bed next to hers, which she hadn't noticed was occupied until now, and they were pushed aside. Stunned silence followed.

"He's recovering very well," said the third voice, which was squeaky. Hermione realized it was Siamoen, "He's had most of his burns cleared up… and his legs have recovered, as you can see. He'll take another week mending."

More silence. Hermione tried to listen and squint at them more clearly, but she needn't strain herself for telling whom the other person was when he spoke. "Mending? Why did the fool agree to this? When did his head leave him?"

It was Lucius Malfoy, the same man Hermione saw in her dream as a Death Eater. Her stomach disappeared in a wave of fear.

"I asked him about a job here, Lucius, and he solemnly swore that he'd do whatever it takes to keep it in order," said Dumbledore coolly, "As I said, he's doing an excellent job. If he wished to discontinue his promise, don't you think that he would have left already?"

Lucius seemed to be fighting for something to say, for he stuttered a few times and growled before saying, "Come off it, Dumbledore! I don't see why he can't take care of himself for a change. He can't have people running around for him, with his pathetic… followers, if you'd like to call them, trailing him wherever he goes-"

"They are all he's got at the moment, Lucius," said Dumbledore, "Surely you've had some good, faithful friends in your time."

Hermione would have said something, anything, but she knew she couldn't say a word. Lucius Malfoy was getting angry, and Siamoen's shadow was cowering in the corner. Just when Hermione leaned in closer to the rip in the curtains, the voices stopped. All of a sudden, Hermione found a hand on the curtains drawn around her bed. With a scream, she watched as they were viciously pushed aside.

She found herself face-to-face with a furious and red-faced Mr. Malfoy.

"And why are the likes of _you_ listening to us?" he hissed at her.

Hermione screamed again, her eyes widening with fright. She tried to get up, but her shoulder hurt too badly. Instead, she flattened herself against her pillows, eyes watering.

"Miss Ganger, you're not healed yet," said Dumbledore, "Lucius, that's quite enough!"

But Mr. Malfoy didn't stop. His blond hair had fallen into his eyes as he watched Hermione with dangerously narrowed eyes, his right hand trembling to his pocket for his wand. Siamoen closed the curtains around the hospital bed they were inspecting at once.

"She heard everything! Stupid Mudblood friend of Potter's," she hissed, but only Hermione heard him. She shrunk into her pillows further, on the verge of tears.

Suddenly, the door burst open, making everyone in the room jump. Hermione peered over her covers to see who it was. She thought she was dreaming it but… she thought it was… Harry, Ron and an enormous black dog? 

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley," said Dumbledore, "It's your visiting time! Slipped my mind, I must say."

Harry (with the black dog trotting alongside him) and Ron walked inside, but saw Mr. Malfoy. Harry stopped dead in his tracks, looking startled. The black dog, which Hermione realized was Sirius Black, growled.

"Lucius is here on orders form the Ministry, Harry. He's here to inspect the strange incidents occurring," Dumbledore told Harry, smiling.

Hermione had never seen Harry looking so… angry. He followed Ron across the room, but his eyes, which were narrowed, were still fixed on Mr. Malfoy. 

"Maybe you should escort Miss. Granger to her dormitory. She's had enough in here, I would say." suggested Siamoen, whose hands were twisting the sleeves of his robes.

Ron nodded. He and Harry went over to Hermione, with all eyes watching them (apparently waiting until they left), and Hermione climbed out of her hospital bed. She put on her robes, which were sitting on a stool next to her, as carefully as she could without hurting her shoulder. Then, with the support of Harry and Ron, Hermione left the Infirmary.

Harry shut the door once Sirius had trotted after them, and as he did, Ron made a noise.

"Malfoy," he growled, "Why is he still working for the Ministry? My Dad would sack him so quickly, if _he_ were Minister-"

"Sirius said that he needs to speak to us," Harry said to Hermione, looking at her, "It's something important."

Hermione nodded, but then made a funny squeaking sound; she wasn't watching where she was walking for a moment, and tripped on a crack in the stone floor. It wasn't the trip that hurt her, but the fact that for a instant when her arm bent slightly back, her shoulder burned like it were about to burst into flame.

"Uhrm," she murmured, closing and opening her eyes, blinking tears out of her eyes. Harry propped her elbow up with his arm, gave her a reassuring shake and looked at the black dog sharply.

"Hurry, will you?" he said.

They followed the dog down one corridor, past the classrooms Hermione and Harry were looking for Marindernia (and one of them which, no doubt, actually had her inside it that night,) down one small set of steps until they were in a landing with one single door. Sirius pawed at the bottom panel of it.

"In here?" said Ron with eyebrows raised, "OK." He opened the door and followed the black dog inside, Harry and Hermione behind them.

They emerged inside what must have been a classroom only it looked well used. It was some-what like the Potion's dungeon, with its enormous cauldrons and shelved bottles lining the walls. There were several dozen desks and chairs facing the front of the room.

Hermione sat at one of the tables with Harry. There, she, Harry and Ron watched as the enormous black dog transformed itself into a fully-grown man, with long, matted hair and a gaunt face. He looked a little less groomed than the last time Hermione had seen him.

"I apologize for putting you through this, Hermione, but I need to tell you something," he said to Hermione and looking as though he meant it, "Has Silversmith been back yet?"

"Yes, he came back at the Christmas feast," said Hermione. Sirius looked up thoughtfully.

"A boy from Nockdernia told us that he was at the Ministry when we couldn't find him," said Harry, referring to Wade, "He said that he caused a stir."

"Yes, yes, I know all about that," said Sirius in a passive manner, waving his hand.

"Well we don't," said Ron, "Care to tell?"

Hermione could tell Sirius was estimating the time they had alone; he glanced anxiously glanced at the door and said, "He's been to the Ministry before. In fact, he used to work for Fudge about three years ago."

"You mean…. Silversmith had worked with the Ministry before, but he was… sacked?" said Harry in disbelief, "Then why would he go back there?"

"Who cares about that, who'd be nutty enough to let that bloke in the Ministry anyways," said Ron, "I mean… I know why they sacked the bugger, but why they hired him in the first place…" he shrugged and sighed.

 "So the question is," said Sirius, "Why is he here and what is he up to?"

A few minutes passed as Sirius paced the room, a hand scratching him gruff chin. Ron has sat on a desk, twisting his sleeves and Hermione was slowly sinking lower into her seat, her back leaning heavily on the desk. Her eyes were getting heavy.

"Maybe," said Ron, "Mr. Malfoy hired him to make himself look better. Or maybe so he could sack him himself. Or maybe-"

"Sirius, I think Hermione needs to go to her dorm," said Harry's soft voice. Hermione, whose head was slowly lowering again, looked up at him and blinked.

            "Yes, I apologize," said Sirius, "I should have waited until you were better, Hermione." looking slightly ashamed, he glanced at Hermione with a frown. Then he took another look. His eyes grew wide, staring at her.

"That's a very… beautiful necklace, Hermione," he said to her.

He looked very strange; his mouth was slightly open and his eyes were filled with what must have been alarm or even fear. Hermione reached up and took the pendant in her hand protectively.

"It might have been a good thing you told us now," said Ron, who was already at the door and hadn't noticed what was going on, "Who knows what we'll run into."

            Harry helped Hermione to her feet and they walked back to the door. They snuck all the way to the end of the corridor, until Sirius stopped them.

            "Ron, take Hermione to her dorm. I need to talk to Harry alone for a moment."

Harry looked at Sirius curiously, but nodded, "I'll see you later."

Something wasn't right; Hermione knew, for a fact, that when something went wrong or if something is out-of-place, Sirius would take it all very strictly. But his face… it was like stone. Ron and Hermione found it best not to argue and started up the corridor, looking back at them.

"What d'you think he wanted to talk to him about?" said Ron as they walked up a staircase. They had finally met students roaming the halls; Hermione was beginning to think that the castle was deserted. They watched them pass, whispering behind their hands. It was obvious that what happened to Hermione traveled around the school like wildfire the next day.

"Bugger off," said Ron angrily, and they scampered away.

Soon, students were passing them from both sides, and some of them, mainly the Hogwarts students, tried to talk to Hermione (_to ask about what happened, most likely,_ thought Hermione.) They were getting close to the common room.

"Hermione! How're you doing?" said Neville, who was walking with a Hufflepuff boy Hermione didn't know.

"Fine, thanks," said Hermione.

"But…where's Harry?" Neville called after them.

"He'll be back in a while, Neville," said Ron, and they started walking faster lest he questioned them further.

The common room wasn't very busy, but some people stayed back, exchanging their own stories about what had happened. A few people pointed at them when they entered.

"What're you doing here?" said Lavender, who was sitting at a table with Parvati.

"Shouldn't I be here?" said Hermione, sounding slightly offended.

"She needs to go to her dormitory to rest," said Ron, "They couldn't have her at the Infirmary anymore."

Lavender approached them, frowning, "But, your shoulder… it's not finished healing yet. Even I can tell and I don't work there!"

"I don't want to go to my dorm anyways," said Hermione, "I feel fine. Really." They were looking uncertainly at her, but to make her point, she marched over to one of the armchairs and sat in it, folding her arms and looking at the floor. Ron grinned.

"She's waiting for Harry," he told Lavender quietly, "Who else?"

Lavender went pink, but smiled and nodded. He watched her walk back to Parvati at the table.

"Looks like I'm not the only one who has a personal fancy," said Hermione teasingly so only Ron could hear as he sat in an armchair too. His ears turned red, but he didn't say a word for a moment.

"You're wrong," he managed to say (his face was so red that Hermione thought it might prevent himself from speaking,) "And… at least I wont do something that you would."

Hermione looked at him, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Hermione, you know what I'm talking about."

"No I don't."

He coughed in his hand, and Hermione swore he murmured something.

"What was that?"

"I'm talking about what you did to Harry at the ball!" he half shouted, his face reddening not with embarrassment, but with anger.

Hermione certainly didn't expect that. It was so long ago, Hermione had almost forgotten. But Ron obviously had not.

"Listen. I've cleared everything up with Harry. He accepted my apology and everything's OK with me and him now," said Hermione. Ron narrowed his eyes at her.

            "Everything might be OK with him and you, but you didn't tell him everything, did you?" he snapped at her.

            "Ron, what're you-"

            "You bloody well know what I'm talking about! You didn't tell him the real reason you were ignoring him like he didn't exist!" Ron interrupted her, "I know it and you know it! Why didn't you tell him?"

            Hermione stared at him, her mouth hanging open.

            "Why do you think that?" she asked him, "What do you know?"

            "It was something Marindernia said that made you act so foolish. I saw her talking to you when I left to go to the garden," said Ron as-a-matter-of-factly, "I have a hunch it was something about Harry and you believed her."

            Hermione furiously shook her head, "You're wrong! It wasn't about Harry!"

            "Will it make you stop lying if I tell Harry everything?" argued Ron. 

            "OK, I get it," said Hermione in a hurry, her face red, "I'm really sorry. You know the real reason…" she lowered her voice, "just don't tell Harry."

            Ron grimaced. "You have a real knack of not telling him anything that concerns _him_." 

            Hermione speechlessly closed her mouth and leaned back in her chair. Ron stared at her.

            "You look exhausted," he said, "That's funny… so was Harry. I was up long before him. What were you two doing while I was gone?" His mouth broke into a foolish grin.

            Hermione didn't have the energy to retort. She sank lower into her seat and folded her arms again. 

"Uh huh," said Ron, his face turning red with mirth, "Look, Harry said I can go for a ride on his broom, since I haven't in a while. If you still don't feel well, you should-

"I feel fine," said Hermione sternly.

            Hermione left the common room when Ron went up to his dorm for Harry's broom. Her legs ached tremendously with every ginger foot she placed on the ground. Suddenly, the thought of going to her dorm wasn't such a bad idea.

            When entering the Grand Hall, Hermione realized that almost everyone had left had already left. The tables, four of them now, were almost empty, but Ginny was sitting with the twins at the Hogwarts one.

            "Hey, you're better!" exclaimed Ginny excitedly as she approached. Hermione carefully sat down next to her without hurting her shoulder and sighed.

            "Not quite," she said heavily.

            "I've heard that you were sleepwalking and you walked into a wall," said Fred, "Is that true?"

            "No!" said Ginny fiercely, putting a finger to her lips, "She had a dream, that's all!"

            "It must have been some dream," said George in disbelief. Hermione rolled her eyes and groaned.

            "Has Harry been here yet?" she asked, looking around impatiently, "He was talking to someone."

            "Yes, he's right over there," said the twins in unison, pointing across the hall. Hermione looked and saw that Harry was walking towards them, and he looked very startled to see Hermione watching him.

            "What're you doing here?" he demanded, "You're supposed to be in your dorm!"

            "But I'm not tired and I feel perfectly fine, Harry," said Hermione earnestly, "Honestly."

            Harry stopped at their table, looking worried, "You do realize that you'll be too tired for your detention, then." He took something from his pocket and held it out to her: a green envelope.

            "Oh dear," she exclaimed, taking the letter and staring at it with dread, "My detention!"

            "You're in for it now!" roared George, his face red with mirth as he laughed, "When you're cleaning the toilets… imagine if you fall asleep in mid cleaning and your head falls into the-"

            "Let's go for a walk, Harry!" she said angrily, getting to her feet and marching to the Grand Hall door, pulling Harry along with her.

            "Hermione… we were only joking!" Fred called after them, but as soon as he said it, they both broke into a wave of laughter. Hermione pulled Harry through the door and slammed it shut, fuming. 

            "Calm down," said Harry in disbelief as she dropped his wrist and angrily sat on the steps, "It's Fred and George, remember?"

            Hermione sat on the steps, folding her arms like a child. She wished the weather was horrible; then she could have stayed angry for longer. But Harry sat down next to her, and her anger melted away. With him there and the cold air whipping at her hair, she felt at peace. The snow-covered trees were swaying slightly and the sun, was bright and sparkling. It felt nice sitting in such a place after being in the Infirmary for a night with an injured shoulder that you couldn't move. And Harry was there too, his head tilting to the sky and a smile playing on his lips.

            "D'you think we should met Ron? To give him the letter?" Hermione said, referring to the letter in her pocket (which she dreaded to take out.)

            "You don't want to open it, huh?" said Harry amusingly, looking at her, "Lets go then."

            The snow-covered slope was a little slippery as they walked down it (_it must have snowed last night,_ thought Hermione as she almost lost her footing) and once they walked its lengths, the Quidditch pitch came into view.

            "Ron would be down there," pointed Harry.

            He and Hermione walked to the Quidditch pitch, passing through the barriers and setting foot on the long stretch of unspoiled ground. The green flags circling the pitch were barely fluttering, as it wasn't very windy.

            "What… who're they?" said Harry, pointing at the pitch. Hermione looked and saw Ron with Harry's Firebolt, only there were a few people with him, and worst off, they looked like they were questioning Ron… in a wicked way.

            Harry and Hermione ran up to them, wondering what was going on. The closer they came, Hermione could make out their faces. It was Tisroc and what must have been his friends.

            "Hello, Harry Potter," said Whin, noticing them approach, "I was just talking to your dear friend, here."

            "Talking?" shouted Ron, whose ears were red, "_Talking?_ You were harassing me! You've been chatting with Malfoy, haven't you?" 

            "What's it to you?"

            "Malfoy's not better than the hag I saw in The Leaky Cauldron," said Harry to Whin, who grimaced. His friends, who were just behind him, did also. Hermione noticed they all looked like Crabbe and Goyle replicas. 

            "Your cheek, Harry," said Whin, "My father told me your father had plenty of that ridiculous cheek too," he grinned, but in a impious way, "Malfoy has been useful. He told me many things about you, Harry Potter."

            Harry narrowed his eyes, "What're you talking about?"

            "Your abilities, your troubles, your strength," he laughed, "and all those harmful things you've been running into over the years. And… your recent encounter."

            "Resent encounter?" questioned Hermione. He looked at her.

            "What, didn't famous-boy tell you?" he told her, "In the third task? When Potter killed his friend-"

            Ron's face turned purple and his freckles dissolved. Hermione hadn't seen him look to furious.

"HARRY DIDN'T KILL ANYONE!" he roared at Whin, "YOU DIRTY LITTLE-"

He stopped, just in mid-leap at Whin, when suddenly, Whin took his wand out of his belt and pointed it at him. Hermione gasped.

"Temper, temper," said Whin with a sneer as his friends behind him chuckled, "Let's not get out of hand."

"Listen, I don't know what Malfoy told you, but you're as wrong as he is," said Harry, whose face was burning and voice trembling, "You don't know what happened. You weren't there, and neither was Malfoy."

"That may be true, but who says that I wasn't there?"

Harry watched him carefully, "You weren't. I would've seen you."

Whin laughed again, and put his wand back, "Watch your back, Harry Potter. Something may just happen to you sometime."

Then, they vanished. No, they apparated, all of them.

"T-they can apparate?" said Ron with a mixture of hate and envy, "How'd they manage that?"

Hermione looked at Harry, and noticed he looked a little defeated. She was just about to ask him what Whin was talking about, but… it must be really dreadful. So she walked back up to the castle with Harry and Ron once she had given Ron the letter and kept her questions to herself… for now.

**…~'*'~…**

The common room was completely empty that night. Harry and Hermione sat in armchairs around the crackling fire, playing chess, and Ron was talking to his brothers. They were huddled in the corner at a table they dragged across the room just so they could be alone. They were writing, reading books and talking in secretive whispers… Ron hated that.

"So…" said Ron, tottered back an forth on his heels as his edged his way to them, "Care to tell what you've been doing?"

"No," said Fred flatly.

"Not to a bugger like you," replied George, but they didn't look at him.

"Could you give me… a hint?"

"No!" said the twins in unison. Ron's ears turned red.

"Why not? I'll write to Mum and tell her what you've been doing!"

Both Fred and George's shoulder's shook with laughter, "But you haven't any idea what we're doing because we're too stubborn to tell you, Ronniekins!"

Ron made a noise of defeat and grumpily slouched over to Harry and Hermione. He tossed himself into one of the armchairs.

 "Who's Mr. Hullith, anyways? I'll bet he'll be sure to give us something disgusting to do, whoever he is. Like clean the bloody toilets." Mr. Hullith was the caretaker that was supposed to meet them in the Grand Hall for their detention.

"He probably works for Dryconderoga, Ron," reasoned Hermione as her queen dragged Harry's bishop off the board, "What time is it, anyways?"

Ron looked at his watch, "If we stay here for any longer than five minutes, we'll be late."

Hermione sighed, and she and Harry started packing up his chess set.

"Looks like you wont be back until a while," said Harry heavily.

"Tell me about it."

Hermione and Ron bid their goodnights to Harry and left for the Grand Hall, Ron dragging his feet. They speechlessly walked down the corridor and once the entrance to the hall came into view, Hermione's stomach fell to her feet. The question finally dawned on her: what would this Mr. Hullith make them do?

In the middle of the hall was a flickering lamp, telling Hermione Mr. Hullith, whoever he was, was waiting. Hermione and Ron both sighed, shook their heads and stumbled down the marble staircase.

They approached Mr. Hullith… and Hermione realized that even if she did have a wisp of an idea of what he looked like, she was sure it wasn't compared to what he really looked like. He was only a few feet tall… three feet, at the most. He wore a long overcoat with an orange-ruffed jumper and tiny buckled boots. He was bald, but he had a very strange mustache. It was very long and twisted and to the sides of that was his pointy ears. Hermione had never seen anything like him before.

"A-are you Mr. Hullith?" Hermione asked the small man carefully. The man squinted at her with his beady eyes, blinked and chuckled.

"I would be at that!" he said with a toothless grin, "And you be Weasley and Granger?"

Hermione nodded a reply

"Good. Well, you're in for a job t'night!" chuckled Mr. Hullith cheerfully. He started walking towards the door of the Grand Hall and Ron and Hermione awkwardly followed.

            By the light of Mr. Hullith's lantern, the three of them walked down the slopping lawn on the other side of the castle from the Quidditch pitch. If it weren't her detention, Hermione would be cooing at how beautiful the grounds looked at night; here were fireflies everywhere and the moon was extra bright. Mr. Hullith stopped and faced them at the edge of a dense thicket. The castle was a few yards away.

            "Your job," he told them, "is to get rid of these filthy bugs." He pointed at the bushes, where the fireflies were most numerous. He summoned a few cages from the tip of his wand, and it was then when Hermione realized… the little lights flying around weren't fireflies; they were fairies!

             "They've been a hazard for the house elves in the kitchens, you see? They're most afraid of these little devils," said Mr. Hullith as one fairies stuck its tongue out at him from behind. Ron tired to fight his laughter, "Fill the three cages, and you can leave. Give the cages to me once you're finished… and no magic!"

            And he left them, leaving behind his lantern so they could see. Ron swore badly.

            "Ron!" Hermione warned, "Don't complain. This is better than scrubbing bedpans."

            She bent down and opened the cage. Just then, right when a particularly pestering fairy was poking Ron and flying away in fits of high-pitched giggles, Ron leapt up in a roar of frustration and trapped one between his fingers. No sooner was he howling in pain. He dropped the struggling fairy into the cage, holding his finger.

            "Watch out, the little buggers bite," he said, trapping another as they all giggled madly. It seemed as though it was for revenge, though, because he snickered once he dumped that one in the cage too.

 "I can see why the house elves don't like them," said Hermione as she seized two by the feet and dropped them into another one of the cages, "They're a nuisance."

"I'll bet you a galleon that I'll catch more than you," challenged Ron, grinning madly as he clapped his hands together in front of him. A few legs and arms were poking from his between his fingers. Hermione rolled her eyes.

There were a few good minutes of solid fairy catching, but the fairies were getting smart and knew not to come near them. In fact, some of them flew away, screaming shrill gibberish. But there were the select few that felt it was their duty to pull faces. Hermione's fingers started to bleed in a few places from bites already, but only one of the cages were full by the time they had to move to find another place that was crawling with fairies. 

Ron was leaping anywhere and everywhere, looking like a child at Christmas. He was laughing insanely, eyes flashing, but didn't mind that he got bitten. It was just another excuse to howl, leap on a fairy, trap it in his hands and throw it into the cage. He finally found an excuse to look like a silly fool.

After a while, when Hermione was getting a little sick of catching the flying menaces, Ron said, "So… d'you still fancy Harry?"

Hermione was so taken aback by his question that she accidentally let a fairy escape her grasp, "W-what?"

"Harry? D'you still like him? You know what I mean!"

"Oh. I forgot you knew," said Hermione sadly, "But yes, I suppose."

He grinned widely, but Hermione couldn't see it.

"That's good."

Hermione fell to the ground, trying to catch one fairy. Grunting, she got up and dropped that one into a cage as well.

"What're you talking about? What's so good about it?" she asked him.

"What's so good about it?" repeated Ron, panting as he looked around him, "What you mean is what's _bad_ about it?"

Hermione shook her head in confusion, "I don't understand. What's bad about it?"

"Exactly!" said Ron with an insane look in his eyes, turning around and pointing at her, "Good question. I wonder how you thought it up. I don't think there's any answer to it, by the way," his eyes grew, looking meaningfully at her, "_It's-not-a-bad-thing_. Don't you understand? It's a good thing that you like him, for both of you!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Don't you get it?"

She shook her head, "Should I?"

Ron looked incredulously at her, as if the answer was so obvious, _"Yes!_ You're the smartest witch in our year, yet you don't know-"

"Know what?" Hermione inquired, not realizing that a fairy was dancing around her head, making shrieking noises to get her attention.

Ron looked surprised. Then he noticed the cages on the ground, "Oh look! We're almost done!" he said, looking around for any fairies. He caught five in has hands and dumped them in the cage. 

Finally, about an hour later, all three of the cages were full. They started up the lawn to the castle again, Ron carrying two full cages and Hermione carrying the lantern and the last cage.

Mr. Hullith just walked into the Grand Hall at the time Ron and Hermione arrived.

"See, that wasn't so hard, now, was it?" he said as they put the cages on one of the house tables, "I do say, you did an excellent job! You may return to your common rooms now."

Ron and Hermione gratefully agreed. They stumbled up the marble staircase, dragging their feet, exhaustion finally settling in.

"That… wasn't so bad?" muttered Ron, "Hermione… what her you thinking when you said that?"

Hermione didn't answer. The door to the common room appeared into view, and it was like a beacon of hope to her. She could finally get some sleep in her dormitory.

It took great effort for Ron to push open the door, and once he did, Hermione noticed that the fire was still roaring. And in one of the armchairs was-

"Harry!" gasped Hermione, "What're you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep," he answered simply, putting down the book he was reading, which was about Quidditch, of course. He looked up at them, "You look a wreak. What did he make you do?"

"Catch fairies," muttered Ron, who was tottering back and forth on his heels, "loads of… fairies."

Harry raised his eyebrows, "Maybe you should go to the dorm," he suggested. Ron nodded thankfully, a very tired smile on his lips. He left through the corridor that lead to the boy's dorms, though it looked like it took him great effort. Hermione, meanwhile, collapsed into an armchair. 

"What're you doing?" Harry asked her, "You should go too, I'm just reading-"

"No, I'm not that tired," Hermione said. 

That was the biggest lie she had ever made. Her eyelids felt like bricks, yet Harry was there. Alone. While everyone was sleeping. She had to stay with him.

"You just haven't been reading, have you?" Hermione asked him. Harry watched her, the corners of his mouth quivering.

"Not really. I was just talking to Sirius a moment before you and Ron showed up. I thought you were someone else."

Hermione looked at the fire, supposing that Sirius and Harry talked through it, "Is he still there?"

"No."

There was a very odd silence between them after that. Hermione was watching the fire burn. She wished Sirius were there now.

"How's your shoulder?" Harry asked her finally. Hermione watched him for a moment, not having much of an idea to what he was talking about, then gasped.

"Oh! It's much better, thank you. It didn't even hurt when I was catching fairies."

Harry nodded and said a very quick 'that's good'. Silence again, and Hermione really needed to find something to say. Anything to make the butterflies in her stomach disappear.

"Harry," she said carefully, "My dream I had yesterday… you seem to know what happened in it," Harry looked at her, his green eyes wide, "I know you offered to tell me all about it, but I've decided… I don't need to know."

He gave her a puzzled look, "But I though you wanted to know since last year."

            "Well," said Hermione with a shrug then a yawn to follow, "Excuse me. I did, but I've decided that I don't need to hear it. I mean… I don't want to be a reason for you to feel badly again. It must be hard for you to relive it all." She yawned yet again and blinked.

            Harry watched her for a moment, as though hardly daring to believe what she told him. Then he nodded. Silence again, and Hermione was starting to nod off. She hoped she didn't look tired at least, but it took great effort to keep her eyes open and she was slowly slipping out of her seat.

"Hermione, you're falling asleep, did you notice?" Harry asked her, sounding a little amused. Hermione shook her head.

"No, I'm no-"

_Flump!_ She fell to the floor, her legs in a very odd position and her head falling onto her chest. Harry chuckled and got up to his feet.

            The fire died to a soft glow at once. Just as Hermione was topple over, she felt an arm around her waist and someone brought her to her feet. Harry helped her over to a sofa just a few steps away and gently laid her down on it.

            "Uhmm," Hermione muttered. Harry draped a blanket over her, which he had found lying across the bottom at her feet.

            He watched her nestle up to the covers for a moment, smiling. "G'night, Hermione," he said quietly.

            But Hermione moaned softly and took his hand before he could turn to leave.

            "Don't go."

            There was nothing for it. She wouldn't possibly go to sleep unless Harry was with her, and he knew, just because he had known his best friend so very, very well. He nodded slightly, turned around and crouched next to her head.

"I wanted to tell y-you," said Hermione sleepily, her eyes fluttering to stay open, "You've been upset for a while, and I wanted to say that… You-Know-Who can't get to you," Harry watched her, "As long as Dumbledore's around, you can't be touched. Y-you know that. I think you're stronger than him. It didn't take me long to notice to n-n-n-" she yawned and covered her mouth with her hand, "notice. And…I'll always be there for you." 

Harry smiled knowingly at her. "You always have been there," he said.

He stroked her hair gently, watching as Hermione closed her eyes in comfort, a smile playing on her lips. It took great effort for him to stay awake, in point of fact, but what was in front of him was enough to keep him awake for the entire night. He was sure of that. 

            It seemed like Hermione had finally fallen asleep. Harry's hand stopped just above her head and he drew it back slowly, trying his best not to wake her. He stood up and was about to leave… until he heard the faintest murmur from Hermione, who was still awake, but only just. 

            "Harry… I-I love you."

            He didn't move a muscle. He didn't even seem mildly surprised. If Harry Potter hadn't known what his friend felt about him, his mouth would have fallen to his feet and his heart would have stopped. Even the glow of the fire wouldn't arise any astonishment on his grinning face.

            "I know… I love you, too."

            He bent down, kissed her cheek and watched as Hermione smiled in her well-deserved sleep.

**…~'*'~…**

**A/N: ***giggle!* *Teehee* Awwwwwwww! Cute, right? Anyways, have you read my reply to Max Lonewolf? I mention a new trailer, and there's something in it you H/H fanatics must see… here's a link --- http://www.mantissa.org/~lcauldron/images/2002/10/NewTrailer/hug2.jpg

            Click it if you dare… it's what I like to call 'The Hug'. I think it's when Hermione comes out of the Infirmary, because during the feast, she comes out running across the Great Hall into ______'s arms! Harry looks a bit happy… no, way happy. *sigh* It's all in the trailer! Chris Columbus has to know something about the future books and who gets together, because he's adding a load of H/H moments. But they're friendly, of course. *Devious grin* And there's another pic with Hermione watching Lockhart (I think) rather dreamily, and Harry's watching behind her. Let me tell you, he doesn't look pleased. --- http://www.mantissa.org/~lcauldron/images/2002/10/NewTrailer/class3.jpg

            So the new trailer should be coming out in a WB movie soon! Look out for it! By the way, _Happy Halloween!_ It's early, I know, but I'm in the mood because I just finished stuffing a pair of my old overalls with rags to make a pretty convincing dead guy. I call him Bob. So I put Bob on my front lawn with a several head and an axe. He's surrounded with 'Caution: danger' police line too! Oh yeah… Halloween, baby! Time to scare the little ones!

By the way, I'm writing a new story called 'The Road to Reality', and it's positively wicked! It wont be posted until a while, but I'll tell you when. Here's a tiny snippet of the first chapter ---

"That can't possibly be! They haven't given up for years! This must be another attack out of many to come." Hermione argued, "Our fellow Aurors haven't penetrated their strength or defenses at all. They must have some sort of power to do what they have been doing, or else, how could they manage to reduce London to what it is now?" she sighed, "They haven't suffered at all. We are the ones suffering."  
            But nobody took her seriously. Every member of the meeting glared at her.

            "Finally decided to show, have you?" said one of the men sitting across from her, whom she recognized as the ignorant man called Arlo Aldhelm, "Already as clever for your age… yet you can't apparate like the rest of us."

Like the hooded men at the start of the road to the castle, the man laughed, and so did the others. It sounded horrible. But there was one attendant, a tall lad with a head full of think, red hair and one that she had recognized right away, who spoke up.

            "You're lucky she turned up, Arlo. With the absence of your wits, she'd make a brilliant addition to this meeting." he smiled and leaned back in his seat, "And I mean that in the most kindest, possible way."

            The room went silent. Arlo Aldhelm scoffed.

            "I disagree, Miss Granger." said the Minister loudly, "There hasn't been a bystander who spotted them after the recent series of attacks. They haven't been seen. The only building left standing for several kilometres," he waved his hand in a suggestive manner, "is this Ministry castle."

"He must be searching for something." said a woman called Ethelreda Gail, "Perhaps if was, he would, in all likelihood, leave with something in return." 


	19. Malfoy's Demise

_Max Lonwolf_ – So, you checked out the links, huh? Well, no that the movies out, you can actually see the entire scene. In case you haven't seen it yet, once Harry and Herm hug, she turned to Ron, each with their arms open, until they think 'wait a moment… what the heck? GROSS!'. So they just shake hands. Hehe. And I've realized that Hermione's the first to actually hug Harry… he barely knows what love is. Isn't that a shame? It's a wonderful thing, love, but he'll find out soon enough, in the fifth book ^_^; *giggle* Thanks a bunch, Max!

_Amora_ – Bastard? That's one way you can put it. Waste of flesh and insides? That's another way, but Whin is a complete jerk. I totally agree. I love it how you said Whin's such a bastard. I mean… I created him! And thanks for the 'Ron should eat the hell out of Whin' comment. I'll keep that in mind…

_TheUnkown_ – Thanks for the comments!

_E.C.R Potter_ – Well, it's not all that bad, being reminded of my English Prof. He's pretty cool. Actually, he went to a Rolling Stone's concert a few days ago at the Sky Dome. He told us all about it, too; how he and his wife sneaked past the security guards to get to the floor, where was only a few yards away from Mick Jagger. Yeah. I'm not crazy about the Stones, but he is. If we're not in a mood to work, we'll just say 'Mick Jagger' and he'll talk about the Stones for the entire class. *noticing how much she's off topic* Oh! Anyway, one of your questions will be answered in this chapter!

_DragonBlond_ – Why, hello! Fancy meeting you here! Dude! You watch Card Captors? So do I! *jumps up and down with glee* 

_Little Teacheress_ – I'm sorry I had to delete Vampire's Curse… quite frankly, I thought it STUNK! But thanks sooooo much for your comments!

_Wildgoldowl_ – Thanks loads!

_BraveSprirtGryfindor_ – Hehe! Cute chapter! Thanks!

_XT-Zealot_ – You hate Whin too? Great! I love it how I've created Win (the friggin sissy) and people hate him like he was a Malfoy! It makes me very happy! Like, Malfoy-turns-into-a-ferret happy, you know? Here's the next chap, just for you (and others, of course).

_MythX_ – Oppsie daisy. Thanks for pointing out that mistake. And go watch the movie! I have… and all I have to say is that I'm in a very giggly mood at the moment ^_^;

**…~'*'~…**

Okay, peps. I'll take that 'give credit where credit it due' saying heartily. Thank 'TheFly' on this chapter… he's been pushing me to get this Chapter out for a few weeks now. But I seriously wouldn't have gotten it out if he hadn't constantly asked me the time I'd post it. So, dude! Thanks a bunch! Bye, all! Read-a-vous my story a-vous! (French… hehe. Don't ask).

**…~'*'~…**

It was the most wonderful dream. 

            Harry bent down next to her head while Hermione prayed that she wouldn't fall asleep in such a blissful moment. He looked warmly at her, smoothing her hair. Hermione closed her eyes in comfort and said the only words that she could muster-

            "I wanted to tell y-you. You've been upset for a while, and I wanted to say that… You-Know-Who can't get to you," Harry watched her carefully, leaning so close to her that she could see her reflection in those big pools of emerald green, "As long as Dumbledore's around, you can't be touched. Y-you know that. I think you're stronger than him. It didn't take me long to notice to n-n-n-" she covered her mouth as a yawn escaped her, "notice. And…I'll always be there for you."

            "You always have been there."

            He still gently stroked her hair like a kind of lullaby. Hermione's eyes closed in comfort.

And she fell asleep there, with Harry standing next to her.

"Harry… I-I love you," Hermione curiously heard herself mutter.

            What she said was slurred and faint in Hermione's mind. She lost contact with her entire body, but for some reason… it was almost as if she could see Harry's knowing smile above her. Then she heard his voice-

            "I know… I love you, too."

            Hermione's heart melted. If only it had been real; If only she had been awake and listening properly instead of hearing things that she only wanted to hear. But soon after, Harry's voice drifted off and a shadow of his retreating figure past by her closed eyelids.

            _If only she told him how she felt._

            Her heart gave an unsteady wrench. Her sleeping figure trembled with sobs and her eyes stung with tears; as she did, the blanket that covered her fell off.

            _Why can't I just do it? _she asked herself, _why can't I just come out with it? Why is it so difficult?_

            A ripple of chilliness froze her insides with the absence of warmth. She drew her legs into her chest, shivering. There must be a window left open in the dormitory. Yes, that was it. Why can't Parvati ever remember to close it?

Hermione's tears started to freeze. She couldn't take it any longer. Her dorm was never this cold. With a sniff that burned her nose, she opened her eyes.

She was completely surrounded by dark. It must have been very early in the morning; the fire was out completely and only a few beams of moonlight gleamed through the windows above. And as Hermione sat up, she realized she was sitting on a sofa. Not her four-poster, but a very comfortable sofa with a blanket on the ground next to it. And… Hermione looked down at herself. She was still wearing her robes, but still… she shivered.

Hermione's eyes traveled around the room. What would she do so early in the morning? She couldn't go to the library; it wouldn't be open this early in the morning. She could get dressed in the girl's dorm and just read in the common room until morning. She needed to catch up on her studies, that's for sure.

Hermione got up and stretched, yawning. She felt warm and rested now; the coldness was probably just a draft from the roof somewhere. She started across the common room, barely lifting her feet off the ground, and shuffled down the short corridor to the girl's dorm.

Hermione opened the door but was surprised to find that there was light inside. Along the walls were four-posters with Lavender and Parvati sleeping in them, but Ginny was evidently awake. She had a dim lantern sitting on her night table, shining just enough light for her to see. Hermione narrowed her eyes and searched for her.

"Ginny?"

She sat up, and looked around. Seeing Hermione, she waved her over.

"What're you doing up?" Hermione asked her softly as she tiptoed her way to the end of her four-poster.

"Waiting for you," said Ginny with a smile and a small yawn, "I wanted to know how it went. You are going to talk to him in the morning, aren't you?" she added.

Hermione stared at her in confusion, putting her hands on the bedpost.

"Talk to who?"

Ginny looked exasperated. She laughed quietly as though she thought Hermione was joking. "Harry, of course," she said with an even wider smile accompanied closely by a giggle, "What're you going to tell him in the morning?"

Hermione sighed in annoyance, "Ginny, I haven't any idea what you're talking about. What do you mean, what am I going to tell Harry?"

"About last night!"

"Last night?"

"Yes!"  
            "W-what happened last night?"

Ginny frowned slightly. She shook her head and said, "You were half asleep. You probably couldn't really hear him, could you?" Hermione was just about to question her further until she added, "You and Harry both admitted your feeling towards each other last night!"

Hermione's mouth fell open, her cheeks burned from embarrassment and her stomach dropped her feet in shock. Ginny giggled again and gestured to the end of her four-poster. Hermione sat down, feeling genuinely baffled.

"I heard it all from the door," admitted Ginny, "And I saw you and Harry in the common room… Ron was with me, of course. He couldn't resist, but then again, who could?" she sighed in thought, "You and Harry look so cute together."

Hermione didn't say anything. Had she heard correctly? That dream she had… it was all real? Did she really admit her feeling to Harry… and did he? Hermione's cheeks burned even more, just thinking about it.

"Y-you mean…"

"Yep! The cat is out of the bag!" said Ginny, "At least, for the time being. Only a few of us know about it so far."

Hermione reached up and touched her forehead, the place where Harry kissed her in the dream. And that dream was so real. 

"I-I thought it was a dream," said Hermione slowly, reaching up to play with her necklace, "I… I dreamed about it just a few minutes ago, and I woke up and…" she looked at Ginny, "A-are you sure it happened? Maybe you were dreaming too-"

"Don't be silly, Hermione! He said it! You said it! You both admitted it, and I saw everything with Ron," then Ginny added seriously, "That boy has it in for you, you know. I can tell that he meant what he said, just by the way he looked at you. Gosh… does he _ever_ have it in for you!" she repeated shrilly, nearly forgetting that Lavender and Parvati were sleeping.

Hermione couldn't retain her own excitement. It was real, just like she wished for it to be. Must have been on the brink of falling asleep when they had done it. No matter… Hermione told Harry what she wanted.

"So…" said Hermione timidly, "What did he do when I… you know… told him?"

Ginny eagerly moved towards her, her face shining with excitement, "He didn't do anything. Well, he did, because I think he already knew. He just stood there, smiling. And he said that he loved you too and kissed your forehead," she smiled dreamily, "It was very nice to watch. Ron was amazed, really. He didn't know that Harry had it in him."

"Well, I'm rather glad he told me," admitted Hermione, "I mean to say, he has to live with those horrible relatives of his. They never loved him, and I don't think he can remember his parent's love for him…" she looked at Ginny very seriously, "Nobody loved him. He doesn't know what love _is_."

Ginny patted her arm gingerly and said, "Well, he does now. But you're right. He didn't have anyone to love until you, so he'd be a bit rusty. You'll have to… show him a few pointers."

She giggled and covered her mouth with her hand. Hermione smiled and laughed to, and it lasted for a long time.

Hermione had nearly forgotten the entire purpose to why she went to her dorm in the first place. But the thought resurfaced when a faint groan was heard from the other side of the dorm. Parvati and Lavender sat up from their four-posters, rubbing their eyes.

"What're you laughing about?" muttered Lavender tiredly. Hermione and Ginny looked at each other, beaming.

"Nothing," they said at the same time.

By the time Hermione had changed into a different pair of robes, the sunlight was peeking through the curtains. Hermione looked outside and noticed that the snow was starting to melt. The evergreens in the distance were actually green now and the lake below wasn't frozen like it was yesterday.

But Hermione couldn't squander any precious time on the beautiful outdoors; there was one thought clearly lodged in her mind: _find Harry_. Hermione made sure her books were tucked away into her trunk before biding goodbye to Ginny, who was skimming through Witches Weekly.

"Tell me everything later," she told her, and Hermione nodded.

Hermione left the dorm with a stomach full of butterflies, and discovered that the common room was almost empty. A few people here and there was reading, talking or just lounging, but with one look, Hermione found the person she really needed to see.

Harry was standing among the crowd of armchairs next to Ron. They were talking to Fred and George, who were looking rather amused and had apparently done something very Fred and Georgeish. Hermione approached them very carefully.

"Are you filling out any of those forms? I'll owl Mum and tell her!" Ron told the twins in annoyance, "What're you planning? You're been hiding something ever since we got here!"

"It's nothing, really, Ronniekins," said George innocently (or somewhat), "Why don't you loosen up? We're not planning anything!"

His eyes flickered momentarily onto Fred's falsely bemused face. Ron made a noise of disgust.

"You're lying!"

"We're not!"

"You are!"

"Are not!"

"Are!"

"Not!"

Harry seized Ron's arm and began to pull him away. With Ron still shouting over his shoulder, he nearly walked three steps until he realized that Hermione was standing nearby, watching them. He let go of Ron's arm immediately and Ron nearly fell to the ground if he didn't steady himself.

"HEY! What'd you do that for?" Ron roared. Then he spotted Hermione too. His mouth broke into a wide grin.

"Good m-morning," said Hermione nervously.

"Hel-lo, Sunshine!" said Ron happily, his bad mood disappearing instantly, "And how are you feeling today? Notice any differences this morning? Anything…_unusual_?"

"Yeah, you'll be dead in a minute if you don't shut up," said Harry.

He looked back at Hermione, trying to decide whether to smile or do anything at all. Her watched her for a long time, and Hermione, remembering what Ginny had said, smiled sweetly at him.

"SHE LIVES!" squealed Ron gleefully, and before he could do anything, Fred 'accidentally' elbowed him from behind on his was to the door with George.

"Opps! Sorry, Ron!" laughed Fred.

"Yeah, didn't see you there!" George piped in.

Harry, Ron and Hermione left the common room for breakfast soon after they could restrain Ron from launching himself at his brothers.

"What're we doing today?" Hermione asked them as they entered the Grand Hall.

"I dunno," said Harry was they sat at the Hogwart's table, "Visit Hagrid? I reckon he might've thought that you would have had detention with him. Help him rock his dragon to sleep, or something."

"Oh, right… our detention," said Ron, who had obviously forgotten the entire thing, "Why would Hullith want those flying buggers anyway?"

"Maybe for lessons?" suggested Hermione calmly, biting into a piece of toast, "Maybe Care of Magical Creatures. They might have that class here."

"Or Defense Against the Darks Arts," chuckled Harry, "Lockhart's brother could be teaching it."

Ron exploded in laughter, remembering the life-defining moment when in second year, their old Professor opened a cage full of Cornish pixies in class and they lifted Neville up onto the chandelier while terrorizing the rest of the classroom. It had been one of their more entertaining classes, as it had proved to them that Professor Lockhart, no matter how much Hermione fancied him then, was a complete and utter phony and a brainless bloke who didn't know the difference between the nose hair-lengthening charm to the curse of the boogies. 

"You're ridiculous," Hermione snapped at Ron as she took a sip from her goblet, "Ridiculous…" she drifted off, realizing Harry was watching her. She couldn't help but blush.

"I wonder," said Ron through a mouthful of eggs, "what happened to Silversmith. The bloke… why would he go after You-Know-Who?"

Hermione snorted into her goblet, almost spilling pumpkin juice all down her front. She looked up at Ron in amazement.

"Harry told me all about it when you were in the hospital wing," admitted Ron as Harry handed her some napkins to clean herself up with, "That way we all know and if something weird happens-" He stopped suggestively.

"We go to Dumbledore," Hermione finished for him.

"Yeah." 

"In that case… I need to go to the owlry," Hermione said to Harry, knowing that Ron wouldn't care.

"What for?"

Hermione finished her toast and swallowed, "I just need to owl Sirius. To tell him something."

She got to her feet and brushed her robes off. Ron didn't move, "You're coming, you prat. Don't you want to say something in the letter? Maybe hello?"

Ron grinned and nodded slowly. He and Harry got to their feet. They crossed the Grand Hall, but stopped, realizing that they hadn't any idea where the owlry was. Soon enough, a girl in dark burgundy brown robes walked through the door.

"Excuse me," Ron asked the girl "Where's the owlry? Down there? Thanks."

The owlry wasn't far away, they found out, but only a corridoor away. They hurried down that and pushed open a set of tall, transparent doors like those in a greenhouse and entered a tall, narrow room. There were screeches and shrieks from every sort of owl there was… and some of them did not look an awful lot like owls; there were a pair of ostrich-like creatures that kept pecking at the ground and squawking at the owls swooping above its head. There were ravens and crows and budgies and talking parrots… Hermione didn't stop to look at them all. She sat at a small bench, took a roll of parchment and a quill form her bag and started to write the letter while Harry and Ron explored the owlry.

_Dear Sirius_

_I don't think Harry knows all that I do and since you asked to owl you about anything strange that has happened, I'm writing to tell you. A few days ago I had a very horrible nightmare a few days ago and I woke up screaming. It had Harry, Mr.Malfoy and You-Know-Who in it, and even Peter Peddigrew. I dreamed the night Harry was in the maze in the Triwizard Tournament. His parents were there._

_Sirius, what do I do if it happens again? What if my dream means something? I mean, why did I dream it? I didn't ask Harry for an explanation, if you're wondering. I don't want to bother him with it all. I've realized how hard it is on him. I've got a good idea what happened though, so I guess there's no need to ask him about it. But I don't understand something. I got a bad cut on my shoulder after my dream somehow, but there was nothing sharp around me. Dumbledore searched the girl's dorm and found nothing on the floor either. _

_I don't know. Maybe I've gone mad (Ron likes to think so). I should be looking after Harry right now, and I'm writing to you talking about my concerns. Harry's doing very well, by the way. The third task should be coming up soon._

_Hermione_

_P.S: I imagine Ron would like to say something. He can be such a child._

Hermione sighed and folded the letter up into a small square so an owl could deliver it. Ron scampered over to her immediately, seeing that she was done. He snatched the quill from her before she could put it back into her knapsack.

"Nuh-uh!" he said teasingly, waving a finger at her scowling face, "I still have to write to Sirius. He has to know about you and his Godson's adjustment, right?"

He eagerly took out a piece of parchment from Hermione's bag, flopped down on a stack of straw and began to write, a stupid grin on his face. Harry came over to them eventually, carrying a beautiful barn owl on his outstretched arm. He took one glance at Ron (who was snickering to himself with his head pointing down at the parchment) and grimaced. He sat down next to Hermione on the bench.

"Did you tell Sirius all you wanted?" he asked Hermione lightly, stroking the feathers of the barn owl that had fluttered down to his knee. Hermione nodded slowly, wondering what to say.

"Yes," she said, "Pretty much. Did you want to say something?"

"No. I've already sent him an owl last night."

Hermione looked at him curiously, thinking of what he just say. "So… you weren't talking to Sirius in the fire last night. You told me you were."

Harry smiled warmly, his eyes flickering to Ron, who was quietly cackling with glee as he continued to write and said, "I was. I only said a few words to him before you and Ron returned. I just wrote him the rest of my questions."

Hermione sighed apologetically, "Sorry I interrupted you. You must've had a lot of questions to ask him."

Harry stared at her for a moment, his eyes sparkling. "Not really."

Ron jumped to his feet triumphantly, holding the newly written letter in front of him like it was a treasured possession. He walked over to Hermione and handed it to her.

"You're ridiculous sometimes, Ron," said Hermione, quickly stealing a look at the letter. She could only read the first line of the letter (_"Sirius! Guess what! Harry and Hermione finally did it! You know what I'm talking about. I heard it all with my sister Ginny outside of the dorms. They're finally together! Thought you ought to know. Anyways, it all started like this. Harry bent down next to her and…")_ before Ron snatched it from her.

"No peeking!" he said, folding up the letter the same size as Hermione's and handing it to Harry.

Harry didn't look at the letter, however. Hermione (who was blushing very brightly now) handed him hers and he tied them both on the leg same leg of the barn owl. He carried it to the nearest open window and with a hoot of thanks, the owl took off with one giant sweep of its wings.

They left the owlry soon after, once Harry and Ron tore Hermione away from an ugly bird that squawked, or somewhat recited, the names of every potion available in the world and the names of their founders (it would have been so useful for potions class that it nearly seemed like it was cheating). They went back to the common room, where there was a roaring fire and many welcoming armchairs.

But they didn't rest, for there, in the middle of the common room, was a huddle of bodies, bending over something on the ground. Dean, who was one of them, waved them over.

"Harry, you'd better get over here," he said. His face was pale and expressionless.

Hermione's heart fell; something happened. She, Harry and Ron approached them and as they did, Fred and George, who we among the crowd of people, separated, and what they found when they did was certainly not something they were expecting.

Draco Malfoy was lying there on the ground in a very odd position. His hair was no longer slicked back but all over and his face was far paler than normal; his eyes was nearly open and what's more was his pant leg was in tatters; the robes on it were shredded and bloody. Pansy Parkinson, was prancing up and down on the spot with her hands over her face, gave a frightened squeal and Crabbe and Goyle were squatted next to Malfoy's head, looked around at all the faces with hope. They hadn't any idea what to do.

"Whoa," said Ron in astonishment, "What happened to him?"

"We dunno. He just… walked in and," started Seamus, shrugging, "collapsed."

Harry looked very uncertain; after all, there was one of his worst enemies, lying on the floor in pieces, and something needed to be done, even if it was a Slytherin. With a slight groan of frustration, he moved forward but Ron caught him by the arm.

"What're you doing?" he asked him in amazement.

"Ron… he can't stay here," answered Harry, looking furious, "No matter how much I'd like him to."

Pansy squealed again and looked at Harry with tear-strained eyes. There was nothing for it. The Slytherins were too nervous to do anything; they hadn't done anything like this before. Harry, however, slowly and cautiously kneeled next to Malfoy, a grimace on his face, and once he did, Malfoy's eyes opened a slit and he moved his head slightly to look at him. His lip trembled for a moment and he tried to speak.

"R-rat," he muttered simply, "It w-was ugly… rat."

A murmur rippled throughout the watching crowd. Harry raised his eyebrows.

            "Malfoy, what're you-"

            Suddenly, with a very sharp movement, Malfoy seized Harry's wrist, his face twisted in horror. Everyone gasped.

            "It was a r-r-rat!" said Malfoy, his voice trembling, _"Potter!"_

            Harry, looking astonished, hurriedly pried Malfoy's clamped hand off his wrist. He looked around at the watching faces and back at Malfoy again.

            "D'you think you can manage to walk?"

            Malfoy didn't answer; his eyes were closed again as if he were exhausted. Harry sighed heavily. He got to his feet, the people behind him moving back, bent down over Malfoy's body, took his arm and draped it over his own shoulder. Malfoy moaned in pain as half of him left the ground.

            "Harry!" shouted Ron, "What're you doing? You can't do that! He's… Malfoy!"

            "Oh, please shut up!" squealed Pansy Parkinson. She pushed her way through the crowd to see Harry and Malfoy more clearly.

"I'll need some help," said Harry, standing up with a hunched back with Malfoy leaning heavily on his side. He looked at Ron.

"Oh, no way," said Ron, raising his hands in surrender and stepping back, "It's Malfoy."

Hermione looked at him, her eyes blazing. With they eyes of everyone in the room on her, she determinedly walked forward. Hesitating for a mere moment, she took Malfoy's other arm and brought it over her shoulder like Harry had done.

"Thanks," grunted Harry, "Let's go."

"I'm coming with you," said Pansy, "I still don't trust you, Potter."

Harry didn't argue. He and Hermione, with Malfoy moaning in pain between them with his head lolled forwards, started to walk very slowly. They left the common room and in the corridor, they stopped once to adjust Malfoy, who was slipping. Pansy followed from behind, sniffing now and then. They made their way down two corridors already before Malfoy started mumbling again; it was that same word – rat. What did he mean? He was delirious, after all, but still… it was the only thing he could say; no insults, no lies, no boasting, but the lonely word 'rat'. Hermione was beginning to think Malfoy was round the bend before he collapsed in the common room.

The infirmary door was in sight, and Hermione couldn't be any more glad for it to be; Malfoy's dead weight was hurting her shoulder, no matter how much Harry was trying to support most of the weight on his side. Pansy went ahead and opened the door for them.

The matron was sitting at her desk, talking to a small Nockdernian boy who had a black eye and an arm in a sling. The matron gasped when she spotted Harry and Hermione walk in with Malfoy.

"Dear me!" she said, hurrying over to the nearest hospital bed, "What happened?"

Harry and Hermione carefully lay Malfoy down on the hospital bed the matron was near.

"We dunno," said Hermione, "We just entered out common room and found his like this… nobody knew what to do. But he's hurt very badly - his leg."

The matron bustled around, taking things from cupboards and jars and bringing them over to Malfoy's bedside. The Nockdernian boy patiently sat in a chair, watching in interest and Pansy, her face red and blotchy, went up to Malfoy and looked down at him. Harry and Hermione moved away.

"And who're you?" said the Matron as she poured a green liquid into a cup, "Friends?"

"No," said Harry, "No, not at all. We brought him here because no one else would. But she is," he pointed at Pansy, "She'll want to stay."

"That's quite all right then. Well, thank you for bringing him. I know what this boy's like," said the Matron as she moved to the bottom of the hospital bed to inspect Malfoy's leg, "Seen him tormenting your sort all the time. I didn't expect you to be friends."

Hermione almost laughed.

"You're free to leave," said the matron.

Before they left Hermione caught a glimpse of her pouring the green substance down Malfoy's mouth be he gurgled it all back up. Harry shut the door reluctantly; he'd give anything to see Malfoy dribble all over himself like a one year old.

They started walking back to the common room.

"Thanks for helping," said Harry was they walked, "I couldn't carried him without you."

"You're welcome. You couldn't do it by yourself, after all. It's no big deal," said Hermione, waving her hand to show its unimportance. But as she did, Harry flung his arm in front of her to stop her walking. 

Turning to her he said, with a very serious expression, "No, you don't understand. You help me all the time. You didn't have to help me with Malfoy, but you did."

Hermione shrugged, and said, looking into his eyes, "Well, Ron didn't want to."

"There were people watching. Anyone could've helped," he smiled and stepped closer to her, "I don't know if it's because you wanted to help me or if you fancy Malfoy and wanted to get him to the infirmary before it was too late."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and playfully poked his chest, "Didn't you hear me last light? Or were you half asleep too?"

She found herself blushing – Harry touched her arm and instinctively, she stepped yet closer towards him. He ran the tips of his fingers down her cheek to her neck, smiling.

"Sorry, I haven't any idea what you're talking about," he said, a look of mock confusion on his glowing face, "Could you repeat what you told me last night? I seem to have forgotten."

"Oh, shut up," giggled Hermione, "I said I love you," then she stopped herself and looked into his eyes more seriously, surprising herself of what she was saying, "I-I love you."

He smiled even wider and wrapped her into a tight hug. She returned it, the blush in her cheeks fading.

"Oh… I remember now. Then if you said that, I must have said 'I love you too'," he gave her shoulder a squeeze, "I love you… very much."

Pansy stood, leaning against the doorframe, watching the couple of them hug, with narrowed eyes. They seemed to be enjoying it. It was apparent that they were planning to keep it all hushed up; with the Daily Prophet articles last year, everyone would surely think that it was all true now. 

They were together, because of something that happened yesterday night. Pansy looked at Malfoy, lying on the hospital bed with green goo oozing down his chin, and her lips curled into a small smile. She'd be sure to tell Draco everything when he wakes up…

**…~'*'~…**

**A/N: **That, my friends, was the most difficult chapter in history. I'm truly sorry I didn't post it sooner, but it struggled. I had several different ideas for it, so it was frustrating. I really am sorry; I felt guilty whenever I stopped writing! But it's out soon, and now it has dawned on me that I've got to finish this thing! I've got other stories in line and this story needs to end! So the next chapter will be out… soon.

_I SAW THE COS MOVIE! IT WAS SOOOOO GOOD!_ Peps… you need to see it. I'm not kidding you. It is the best looking thing I've seen since… uh…. Lemmie think… okay, I can't think of a movie that's better than COS, but maybe later (yeah… right). *five hours later* Okay, there isn't a better movie. So you hafta see it! There's H/H! And trust me… you hafta see Dan Radcliffe as Harry with a murderous stare… bone chilling. No wonder Ginny fancies him! But it is truly brilliant! My fav part was the spiders; man… there had to be about a thousand of them, and Arrog is really forbidding. And I like it when Dobby drops the cake on Mrs. Mason's head. Harry was tiptoeing after it as it floated into the living room, his arms outstretched to catch it. But when it fell, his hands were right there so it looked like he dropped it on her! And there was no camera goof-ups that I could see this time. But the H/H moments are numerous. And it shows that Malfoy's a friggin thief! Grrrrr… and poor Herm. She was near tears when Malfoy called her a 'Mudblood'. But what was really good was the scene in the hospital with Hermione petrified. Harry hand her hand, looking really miserable, and he said – whoa. I'm giving it all away! GO SEE CHAMBER OF SECRESTS! IT'S WELL WORTH THE WAIT INSIDE THE THEATER!


	20. Rimonis Oculus

**A/N:**

_Brendan:_ You'll probably read this two months later, but that link doesn't work any more. The website moved on to other things (darn them!) but I assure you that it specifically hosted an interview clearly stating that H/H was to happen in the future books.

_BraveSpiritGryffindor: _It's not sad that Hermione didn't hug Ron in the movie! _It's brilliant!_ Besides, he didn't want to be hugged… Harry did ^_^; Thanks a bunch!

_Archforge:_ Wow. You reviewed on every chapter. Thank you so much!

_Naomi Silverwolf:_ Oooooo… you're very thoughtful, aren't you? Quite tryna figuring out what'll happen! You'll ruin the surprise! Thanks!

_Max Lonewolf:_ Wow, you're really into the H/H stuff, aren't you? You timed the big H/H hug! Awwwwww! Aren't they cute? And I just realized that their first meeting in COS _was_ flirtatious. My, have they grown into their parts! Thanks, Max!

_Sparkle Tangerine:_ GREAT review! I'm really glad that you liked my last chapter! It was differcult… but this chapter was a bit easier, except for the new spells (new spells, you say? Yep! *giggles with glee*)

_xT-Zealot: _I don't mind spiders, and I'm a girl! I can squish them… what I don't like is that SPLAT sound they make when you crush their little bodies. Ew… I just grossed myself out. Anyways, thanks so much for adding my fic to your favourites! 

_DragonBlond: _I liked the spider part! What's wrong with you people! They're only eight-legged creatures with great, shiny eyes and fur on their disgusting bodies! My dad likes Ron the best, though, because of his facial expressions… and he's funny. Yeah, okay, I give! Ron is funny! No, not Ron, Rupert is funny! There. I settled that… *folds arms in satisfaction*

_Animefairy:_ Oh, that's very nice of you! But don't go skipping sleep to read this… you wont remember the chapters! Anyways, thanks!

_E.C.R Potter:_ I don't trust Pansy either. But just wait to see what happens! Hehe! Thanks!

_Liza:_ Thanks for your review! 

_Thefly:_ Yeah, yeah, yeah. You won't nag me that much… but don't stop now, it's doing me so much good! *snicker* Thanks! Keep up the naggin'!

**_HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD H/H ROMANCE!_**

**I hope you all get your true heart's desire (Herms did!)**

**…~'*'~…**

The castle grounds were free of snow; spring was in the air. The strange peacock like birds were flourishing on the grounds again and the trees were dripping with water. Hermione's feet absorbed the green grass and then sprang back to life as she walked around the grounds, breathing deeply, letting the fresh air fill her lungs. People were everywhere, enjoying the day.

Hermione could be properly happy again. Her and Harry were together, more or less, but it was a necessity to keep it all hushed up. Nevertheless, Hermione could vividly remember that silly, stricken look on Harry's face when he saw he for the first time after they admitted their feelings. And the crocked half grin he gave her melted her insides and made her stomach go aflutter.

She had nearly forgotten that she was half asleep when she admitted her feelings to him. But he mustn't have even considered going to his dorm when he answered her with just those few words. It was but a dream; a very genuine dream.

Hermione had woken up early, got dressed and left the castle to wander around, knowing that she, Harry and Ron were to see Hagrid sometime this afternoon. He had owled Harry and asked them to meet him on the south side of the castle, and since the day was wonderful, they only were too happy to agree.

As Hermione crossed a small brook she, Harry and Ron were at the day the Anika Ball was on, she spotted two students descending down the lawn towards her. She heard Ron's noisy, bothersome voice.

"Blasted-end Skrewts! Curse of the Boogies, quicksand… who knows?"

Hermione's heart rose a few feet realizing who they were and who spoke next. She ran up to them.

"Ron, all I'm saying is that it's just a lesson. We wont do anything as drastic as… _quick sand_? Why would you think _that?"_

Hermione stopped in front of them and placed a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder.

"What are you on about now?" she asked him. He looked at her, smiling sheepishly, and handed her something. It was a piece of parchment. As Hermione read it, she realized that enjoying the first sights of spring was immediately crossed off her list. _Wizard's Dueling Challenge and Lesson_, it read.

"It's at noon in the grand hall," said Ron wretchedly, "And if it's like the last one, I'll be partnered with Malfoy. It's getting worse and worse every time, I tell you. You do know about the duel, don't you?" he added at Hermione.

Hermione shook her head, handing the paper back to Harry.

"Well, if we're going to it, we'd better visit Hagrid now, don't you think?"

"Yeah," said Harry absentmindedly, watching Hermione, "Yeah, let's go."

Harry, Ron and Hermione started across the lawn to the other side of the grounds, south of the castle, towards Hagrid, who was just next to the stream. The closer they got to him, the more Hermione wanted to leave in the other direction. He had several new creatures Hermione had never seen before, and he was feeding them what looked like lettuce; when they walked even closer to him, Hagrid looked up – and chuckled, his beetle black eyes sinking into his head with happiness as he laughed.

"What're you laughing at?" Hermione asked him curiously as she, Harry and Ron stopped in front of him.

Hagrid was far away from answering, however. He looked from Harry and Hermione, and said, "You both look like Lily an' James, it's hard ter believe!"

Hermione blushed, and to save the humiliation, she looked at the bizarre creatures that Hagrid was feeding. They were disgusting – they were completely covered in brown fur. They had mouths around the edge of them, filled with sharp teeth, and two big eyes that looked like bizarre Muggle lamps perched on what was most likely the top of their heads. They had short, stubby feet like those of a green salamander. Hermione thought they looked like oddly brown potatoes – they even had to lumps and knobs.

"Uh, Hagrid," said Ron, watching one of the creatures worriedly as one of them shuffled towards his leg, a long pink tongue protruding from it's row of teeth, "What're these?"

"Wompilers," said Hagrid, "Dead useful things. An' Siamoen gave me permission the feed 'em some lettuce," he raised his handful of green lettuce suggestively, "an' he knows we don' get them at Hogwarts. They only hatch them here in Dryconderoga."

"Hatch?" repeated Harry, bending down and prodding one of the Wompilers with his finger.

"Of course! The Herbology Professor they have 'ere hatches 'em in the greenhouses. Says I can take 'em for a short walk," said Hagrid proudly. 

Hermione watched Hagrid throw a head of lettuce at one of the Wompilers, which caught it and with a slurp, swallowed it whole. So Hagrid had met another strange creature that he'd probably sneak to Hogwarts with him. It was a repeating process: Hagrid takes illegal creature from school; creature gets stuffed under Hagrid's bed for hiding; Harry, Ron and Hermione find the illegal creature; Harry Ron and Hermione attempt to convince Hagrid to return the illegal creature to the wild. It was all so original. 

"But… you're not taking them back to Hogwarts, are you, Hagrid?" said Harry, peering closely at Hagrid, who frowned.

"Er… no, of course not!" he looked shocked, "I'm teh keep 'em in their cages when I'm not with 'em, locked away… so I can't keep 'em." Then he folded his hands in front of him, tottering back and forth on his heels very suspiciously. Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged worried glances.

"Hagrid, I don't want to find that thing in your hut. It's probably illegal to keep them as a personal pet," reasoned Hermione.

"Hagrid, did you hear about Malfoy?" said Ron suddenly, as though struck by a sudden thought, "You did hear about him, didn't you?"

"Oh, yeah. Dumbledore mentioned it this morning," said Hagrid, beaming, "I wan'ed to tell yeh he said that he'd be back ter normal in a couple 'o days. Nasty little number he got himself in, eh?"

"Yeah," said Harry, "Nobody knows who did it to him, either. All the Slytherins went mad, though, nobody wanted to go near him."

"But you volunteered to help 'em to the Infirmary. Siamoen told me," Hagrid added, noticing their confused looks, "Yer father would've done the same thing with Snape when they were in school," Harry, who was watching a Wompiler, suddenly looked up at him with interest, "I remember this time when Snape was just gettin' the hang of makin' potions when one of em' backfired. James an' yer Mum carried him all the way teh the infirmary."

Hermione looked at Harry, and was relieved to see him speechless with happiness. Instead of replying, he bent down and petted one of the Wompliers, much to Hermione's disgust.

"They're not that bad, Hermione," said Ron, who was kneeling next to one of the Wompilers and scratching under its chin (it made a strange noise, like a cross between hissing and purring).

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," argued Hermione, "Everything to you is harmless, isn't it? But it was you who was bitten by Norbert, wasn't it? Honestly, that thing has rows of sharp teeth!"

"But they don't use them for tearing people to pieces, though, do they Hagrid?"

"Well, not 'people'… lettuce, but not humans," said Hagrid, scratching his enormous chin, "Maybe dragon liver an' the Kelpie kind… but not human'."

Ron looked up at him, frowning. Hermione smiled, noticing that he had no idea what a Kelpie was.

"If you had read useful books instead of comics, you would know how dangerous Kelpies are," said Hermione smartly, "A Kelpie is demon that can take many shapes, but it prefers the shape of a horse. It lures unwary people onto its back then swims to the bottom of a lake or river to devour the rider, letting the entrails float to the surface." Hermione watched Ron and Harry's faces contort to horror for a moment before adding, "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, chapter twelve."

Harry and Ron both jumped back from the Wompilers and wiped their hands on their robes, disgusted with themselves. Hagrid chuckled lightly.

"Listen, you three, I got to put these back before they get bored an' want the spoil summat," said Hagrid gruffly, "Besides, yeh got yer duel to look towards, eh?"

Hermione nodded slowly and left up the sloping lawn again with Harry and Ron. She looked over her shoulder and watched as Hagrid gave them a furtive glance and pulled out several collars and ropes out of this mole-skin overcoat to tie the Wompilers with.

"Hagrid wouldn't bring one back to Hogwarts, would he?" Hermione said, ejecting a bit of reason into her voice as they entered the grand hall, "I mean… w-would he?"

Harry and Ron didn't answer, for something had caught their eye the moment they walked inside the hall. Neville, who was talking to a group of harassed-looking first year Gryfindors, gave out a squeal, realizing that they had walked inside.

"Hermione! Dumbledore wanted you to-to go to the Infirmary!" he said in a rush or words, hurrying towards them, his round face pink with exhaustion, "He asked me to send you there. I've been looking for you everywhere!"

 "What, Neville? Why?" said Hermione in confusion, unaware that all the people in the hall were watching with interest.

"I dunno, he didn't say. He told me to tell you to go right away."

Harry looked from Neville to Hermione. "Malfoy's in there. I'll go with you."

"No! She has to go alone. But Malfoy can't hurt her, Dumbledore's there as well. He can't pull one over when he's around," said Neville darkly, "The Dueling Lesson's going to start in half an hour, but it wont take long."

Hermione looked around the hall. Professors Kohl and McGonagall were moving the house table to the side of the hall with a small motion of their wands; Siamoen, Flitwick and various students were clearing the floor of everything else. They had already started preparing.

Hermione nodded to Neville and turned to Harry and Ron.

"I'll try to be back before the Lesson starts. Don't worry about me," said Hermione. 

She silently stepped closer to Harry and grasped his hand. He gripped it tightly.

"If Malfoy does anything, tell us so we can… knock some sense into him," said Ron, his ears turning red, "I'm not very good at Transfiguration, but I can make him have the legs of a ferret. And the nose too… that would be worthwhile, wouldn't it?"

Hermione smiled, gave Harry's hand a final goodbye squeeze and left them.

She passed students heading to the hall, all in which were holding their wands and talking in excited whispers. Hermione started down the corridor from where they were coming, going the opposite way and passing classrooms with Dryconderoga students pouring out of them. A few people looked at her, noticing where she was from and that she was going the opposite way they were.

Hermione approached the Infirmary door, and with a small hesitation, she pushed it open and walked inside.

The Matron was sitting at her desk like Hermione has seen her once before, reading a newspaper. She looked up at Hermione and smiled, gesturing to the other end of the Infirmary, where only one bed was occupied, which had the curtain drawn.

Hermione nodded in determination and descended down the long lines of beds until she saw Dumbledore, sitting in a chair on the other side of the occupied bed, where the drawn curtain stopped. She was disgusted to see Malfoy sitting up, his arm in a sling and a grimace on his face. His hair was not sleek and back, but all over the place and his face was not pale, but a little flushed.

"You wanted to see me, Professor?" Hermione asked Dumbledore.

Dumbledore nodded, patting the seat of the chair beside him as he packed away the wrappings of a chocolate frog. Hermione shook her head, but came closer. She didn't want to sit near Malfoy when he was like this.

"Fair enough," said Dumbledore, pulling out another sweet. He unwrapped it and looked at Hermione "Surbert lemon? I'm rather fond of them."

"Er… no thank you, Professor. I, uh… just ate."

She and Malfoy waited a minute until Dumbledore had finished. When he did, he put the wrapper in his pocket, brushed off his hands, then looked around the Infirmary.

"Do you know why I asked Mr. Longbottom to bring you here, Miss. Granger?" he asked Hermione, who shook her head, "So I ask you… were you around Mr. Malfoy when he was injured?"

Hermione shook her head again.

"Harry, Ron and I just entered the common room and found him… on the ground," said Hermione quietly, "Everyone was around him."

"And did you see him get injured when you were in the corridor? Did you, perhaps, see anything unusual?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, sir. We just came back from the owlrey to write a letter to Sir-" Hermione stopped herself before saying anymore, about to clap her hand over her mouth from saying too much. But more calmly, she added, "- my parents, just to check up with them. We didn't meet anyone or see anything."

Dumbledore nodded gravely, understanding what she was saying perfectly. Hermione felt that odd feeling again, like she was being questioned with the facts that he already knew. But what did he know?

"And you didn't see Mr. Malfoy?"

"No, not at all that morning. Why? Should I have?" said Hermione.

"I apologize if I'm making you feel as if I'm inquisitive with you, but I'm just fitting a few puzzles that were seemingly misplaced," said Dumbledore, his eyes sparkling behind his half-moon spectacles, "But I believe that the facts have become understandable now."

Hermione had almost forgotten that Malfoy was in the room. She jumped when he spoke.

"Understandable? What's that supposed to mean?" he said angrily, "I almost _died_!"

The matron, who wasn't listening to their conversation until now, shouted across the room, "You did not almost die, you nasty little bugger. You had a simple knock to the head and a broken leg! And you refuse to get rid of that silly sling, now that your arm has healed! I swear, I'd get you to scrub the bedpans for another detention, if I was your Professor!"

Malfoy shoot that Matron a nasty look. Hermione realized that she wasn't kidding when she said those things about Malfoy the day she and Harry brought him into the Infirmary. She inwardly smiled.

"Well, I mean to say that the facts have become more clearer than before," started Dumbledore, his beard twitching. Then he said, more seriously, "Did you hear the words Malfoy was speaking when you brought him here?"

Hermione thought back to that day. Harry leant over Malfoy, trying to get him to respond to his words, but he could only moan and… utter the single word 'rat'. He did it throughout the entire time that she and Harry brought him to the Infirmary.

"H-he kept saying 'rat', Professor. I thought he went mad."

Dumbledore nodded, "Does that sound significant to you at all?"

Hermione shook her head, wondering what he was getting at.

            "Can you think of nothing? You did not meet a single student on your way to the common room; you did not see Malfoy get injured; he used the word 'rat' when it would be painful to even make a sound," said Dumbledore slowly, "The last thing he remembered had obviously struck him as something momentous, and he felt that he needed to tell someone." Her peered closely at Hermione.

            "The first person he spoke to… was Harry."

            "Precisely. And why do you think Mr. Malfoy felt it was important for Harry to hear the word 'rat'? Why did he speak the word to him?"

            Hermione wracked her brain in thought, aware that both Malfoy and Dumbledore were watching her concentrate.

            "Because a rat was the last thing he saw after he was attacked," said Hermione slowly, "But that's ridiculous. Whey would a rat attack him?"

            Suddenly, something flashed past her thoughts. The night she had first met Sirius Black in person; the night Remus Lupin befriended his old acquaintance; the night Ron lost his pet rat to Lupin… Peter Pettigrew. Why hadn't she realized it sooner?  
            "It was Wormtail!" gasped Hermione, "But how did he… I-I don't understand."

            Dumbledore leaned back, folding his hands in his lap.

            "In his Animagus form, Peter is difficult to find and almost as difficult to avoid. He has followed us to this very castle for a purpose," said Dumbledore, "and it could be for any reason. His Master may have sent him on a mission, yet it includes this castle, or something inside it."

            "But… what if he's after Harry?" said Hermione, her voice trembling slightly.

            "He would not do such a thing as that. He is a panicky character, Peter, and he would never think of accepting a mission to destroy Harry on his own."

            "Too bad. If he wasn't such a coward, he would have attacked Potter and not me!" hissed Malfoy.

            "Do not be too sure, Mr. Malfoy. I mean to say that you are a Slytherin and the Dark Side favours your house in particular. You come from a long line of Slytherins and your father is indeed a powerful wizard. Peter attacked you for an unknown reason, not because you were the target nearest him."

            Hermione looked at the floor, thinking. Dumbledore was right. There was no reason that Peddigrew attacked Malfoy. There was no visible reason for him to follow the Hogwarts students to Dryconderoga at all.

            "Sir," said Hermione softly, "That night of the third task – the tournament – Peter Pettigrew was with Harry. And so was You-Know-Who. And Harry escaped. D'you think… is it possible for You-Know-Who to send Peter here to fetch Harry and bring him back to his Master?"

            She did not truly want to know the answer; Dumbledore sighed heavily, shaking his head from side to side.

            "I requested for you to come here, not Harry, for a reason," he told her, "You see, Harry needs those dueling lessons… to prepare for anything that challenges him. He has his hands full, that boy. He just needs to be taught how to handle any situations. But he's doing a fine job," Hermione held her breath, "So yes, it is possible."

            Hermione felt sick. She but her face in her hands and took a deep breath, fighting tears.

            "Granger," spat Malfoy, looking a little afraid, "If Potter can suffer through a torture, I think he can at least avoid a stupid rat. Besides, it was me who was attacked and I didn't do anything! I'm sure that you'll look after him, though, wont you? Like you always do?"

            Hermione looked up and glared at Malfoy, his face a little disoriented through the tears that were clouding up her eyes, "Pettigrew is dangerous and I don't want to see Harry attacked by a… _stupid rat!_ And your father's a Death Eater, Malfoy, so it's safe to say that you've hurt plenty of people!"

            She had touched a nerve. Malfoy's mouth dropped open and his arms tensed, looking far angrier then he was expected to be in the Infirmary, but Dumbledore stopped whatever he could've done.

            "Enough. Miss. Granger, please proceed to the dueling lesson in the grand hall," he said, getting to his feet, "And Mr. Malfoy, I'd much prefer you to go to your common room."

            Hermione agreed. She left the Infirmary, her thoughts dull and her throat sore and dry. Without speaking to any stragglers who passed her on their way to the lesson, she took her wand from her trunk in the girl's dormitories and left the common room. She didn't feel the need to hurry; she had no need for the lesson. But Dumbledore was right… Harry had to prepare. 

            Hermione entered the Grand hall and found that everyone, from all three schools, was there. There was a long platform reaching both ends of the hall in the center of the room and the students were crowding around it, all holding wands and all looking excited. Hermione stood on her tiptoes, looking around for Harry and Ron. But she needn't go far.

            Someone seized her shoulder and whirled her around. It was Ron, and Harry was just behind him, grinning.

            "C'mon, we got places right next to the stage," said Ron.

            Harry led them both to a very good spot where they could see everything. Hermione looked down the platform and saw Professors Kohl, Siamoen and… Dumbledore. How did he get there so quickly?

            Hermione watched Dumbledore in awe, and for a moment, she could swear he winked at her...

Harry gently nudged Hermione. "You OK?"

Hermione tried to look at Dumbledore again, but he had turned and started talking to Siamoen.

"Yes… I'm fine."

A moment later, a loud bang made everyone jump. Professor Kohl, who was now standing alone at the end of the platform, had her wand raised for silence. Most people went quiet, except for Neville, who was so surprised by the loud noise that started spluttering.

"Your attention please," said Professor Kohl loud enough for the entire hall to hear. Seamus clapped a hand over Neville's mouth to quiet him, "Thank you. Now… for those of you who do not know me, I am Professor Kohl, the headmistress of Nockernia. I have kindly been allowed to teach these three fine schools an advanced lesson of dueling." 

Professor Kohl had a gift of keeping silence, just like Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall comprised. She slowly started to walk down the platform, her pale, kind face turning to everyone as she went.

"There is more to dueling than blocking and disarming unwanted curses, as some of you may have encountered," continued Professor Kohl, "The disarming charm is used to deactivate an enemy with his or her wand, but does not injure them unless the one using it is a powerful individual. The blocking curse not only blocks unwanted spells but also drains the user's energy significantly. Can anyone tell me why?"

Harry leaned away from Hermione, knowing that her arm would shout upwards into the air. 

Professor Kohl looked around and spotted Hermione, "Yes? Miss…"

"… Granger, Professor," said Hermione as Professor Kohl stopped on the stage in front of them, "Blocking curses drain the users energy because the shield that is generated by the spell is very powerful and requires the magic from the user. The more powerful the user is, the less energy is drained."

Professor Kohl smiled with crimson lips. "I couldn't have put it better myself, Miss. Granger." She started down the platform again, "With that in mind, realize that you do not always need a blocking curse. You can just simply move out of the way or retaliate with a stunning curse to save your energy. You must defend yourself, yes, but you must also retaliate.

"Do not let your opponent kick you when you are down. If they should sink to as low as that, they expose themselves as a coward. But suppose the stunning curse is not enough with a strong opponent. You may need to do more damage, not just temporarily preventing your opponent's strikes. If so, you'll need an attack curse."

Professor Kohl stopped at the end of the platform and searched the crowd of awe-struck students. Ron nudged Hermione's arm violently.

"Hermione," she said quietly, "I think… I think Dumbledore's watching you."

He was looking down the platform, pointing to where the Professors stood. Hermione did too, but saw that Ron was wrong; Dumbledore was avidly watching Professor Kohl, nowhere to where they were standing. Hermione stared at Ron, puzzled.

"He was, I swear it."

"You there. What's your name?"

Ron and Hermione jumped. They hadn't noticed Professor Kohl, who was in front of them on the platform now, standing over them. Her small, dark eyes were on Ron.

"What is you name, boy?" she repeated. 

This time, it was Hermione's turn to elbow Ron in the ribs.

"R-Ron Weasley, Professor," choked Ron.

Hermione knew what was going to happen. Professor Kohl straightened up and motioned with her hand for Ron to get on the platform, which he did, rather uneasily. He looked around, realizing that everyone was watching, and tried to escape, but Professor Kohl stopped him.

"Ron Weasley. You are from Hogwarts, Gryffindor house, are you not?" Professor Kohl asked Ron in a louder voice so everyone could hear. Ron nodded fervently, "I'll use you as an example. Now, please take out your wand."

Ron dug deep inside his pocket and pulled out his wand.

"Repeat after me," Professor Kohl brought out her own wand from a pocket of her dress robes, raised it high in the air and brought it down, "Vivaci!" 

"Vivaci!" said Ron, repeating her wand movements. She smiled at him in delight.

"Excellent," she said, turning back to the watching students, "Now listen carefully. This is a difficult spell to learn; most able wizards only produce a small impact. But what makes this particular spell useful is you can change the amount of force you desire," Ron's mouth fell open, looking more worried than before, "You need to concentrate on your ideal impact and do it quickly, because your opponent may attack before you react."

Ron looked at the Professor in horror as she turned to face him.

"Mr. Weasley. Please stand in the center of the platform," said Professor Kohl, and Ron moved a few steps to the center, "in your ready stance – yes, like that – now, raise you wand."

Ron, legs spread and wand raised, anxiously waited for more instructions, unaware of everyone watching. Harry and Hermione looked at each other – this was going to be good.

"I want you to concentrate on your ideal impact. And as he does, everyone watch the end of his wand," instructed Professor Kohl.

Ron clamped his eyes shut, holding his wand directly in front of him, and concentrated hard. The room was silent and everyone was watching the tip of Ron's wand, for any sort of reaction, and one moment later, when Ron's ears were starting to turn red in effort, a burst of light erupted from his wand tip. Hermione lifted her hands to her eyes to block the light, and so did everyone else, but it didn't last for long.

Ron was still standing on the platform, his eyes open and staring avidly at his own wand. The hall burst into applause, the Hogwart's students louder than the rest. 

"Excellent!" said Professor Kohl in delight, "That was brilliant for a first attempt. You produced a very small amount of energy because you wanted for it to happen. You'll notice that your energy has faded just slightly, but you'll regain it all later. The exhaustion is not permanent."

Professor turned and searched the crowd of students.

"I will need a second volunteer."

No sooner were the words out of her mouth when a quick voice from the crowd of nervous faces said, "I will volunteer".

A girl hoisted herself onto the platform. Getting to her feet, she fixed her crimson dress robes, took a deep breath and took her wand from her sleeve. A small grimace appeared on her lips as she looked at the panic-stricken student in front of her.

Hermione seized Harry's arm – it was Marindernia.

"Excellent," said Professor Kohl, "I believe you know the spell?"

"Yes," said Marindernia and Ron stepped back in apprehension.

There was a wave of murmurs rippling through the watching crowd of students. Harry and Hermione watched with bated breath – Marindernia positioned herself in the center of the platform, legs spread and steady, and raised her wand high above her head. A few of her friends whispered words of encouragement, which she ignored. Her violet eyes were set unswervingly on Ron.

Professor Kohl couldn't look any happier.

"Now… Mr. Weasley and Miss. Cuapauil will demonstrate the use of stealth – avoiding curses, while defending themselves. Remember… it's all in the mind. Concentrate and your wand will construct an extraordinary amount of force. But just to be safe, I will put a spell on you each so no injury will be done. It will not affect the amount of force done to you at all."

She approached Ron, who was trembling now, and pointed her wand at him. She did a sort of complicated wave, muttered something, and her wand burst red for a moment. She did the same thing to Marindernia. Whatever it was, it seemed to Hermione that it wasn't working. She bit her lip and squeezed Harry's arm tighter.

Ron got into his dueling stance, wand tremulous and face white as a sheet. Maindernia hadn't moved from her position and she was eyeing him with extreme dislike; her eyes had disappeared under her brow.

The air was dense and the whispering had stopped. The headmasters were watching in interest; Professor Kohl backed up to the very back of the platform.

Hermione held her breath, tightened her grip on Harry's fingers and waited.

"On a count of three," shouted Professor Kohl, "Three – two – one – _go!"_

Ron panicked. He quickly raised his wand, and roared, "S-stupify!" 

His wand tip exploded with a burst of light and shot straight at Marindernia. But, unbelievably, with the loud gasps from the surrounding crowd of students, Marindernia dodged the curse, nearly falling on her back in the process. But she didn't panic. In fact, in a response, she pointed her wand at Ron.

_"Vivaci!"_ she shrieked.

A burst of light erupted from her wand at once. It didn't even look as though she had concentrated at all; it hit Ron hard in the chest, and with some screams from the crowd, he was sent flying through the air past the watching students, right across the platform, shouting in absolute terror the entire way.

"Ron!" shouted Harry in horror.

He and Hermione leaned against the platform, looking down it, and watched as Ron hit the opposite wall with a crack. The Professors mildly watched him, not panicking at the least.

"Do you think he's alright?"

"What did she do to him?"

The hall burst into chatter at once, everyone looking over the heads of the people in front of them. Hermione did too, and saw that Ron was getting to feet. He wasn't hurt.

"You're protected, Mr. Weasley, there cannot be any harm done to you," said Professor Kohl calmly, ushering him towards her, "Please come here, I need one more demonstration."

Hermione looked at Marindernia. So did everyone else. She was still on her feet, in the middle of the platform, wand raised and a foul look in her eyes. Ron, who was going back to his place, stopped dead in his tracks.

"I'm backing out," he said heavily, "I'll like to keep my head, thanks."

And with the eyes of everyone in the hall on him, he walked to where Harry and Hermione were standing and jumped down from the platform to the ground.

"Are you OK?" Hermione asked him at once.

But she noticed that Professor Kohl had watched Ron reached them. But her eyes were no longer on Ron… she was looking beside him, at Harry.

Hermione's heart gave a sickening jolt.

"Harry Potter, do you care to volunteer?" Professor Kohl asked Harry, "Champion against champion. It'll tie you down until the next task."

The whispering started again, like little hissing fires. The people around Hermione stared.

"Go for it, Harry, she's a bloody menace," urged Ron quietly, "She's making Hogwarts look bad."

Harry looked at Hermione, waiting for her to saying something – anything. But she found that her voice had gone. 

"All right," agreed Harry.

He put both hands on either side of the platform wall pulled himself up. Standing, he looked down at Hermione from the platform. He nodded to her, as some sort of a reassurance and turned to Professor Kohl. The whispering stopped at once.

"What must I do?" Harry said, glancing at Marindernia.

Professor Kohl considered him for a moment. "You have been watching and you have leant the attack curse, am I right?" Harry nodded curtly, "Then you may be capable of conducting this new spell – the Rimonis curse.

"The Rimonis curse is advanced and highly dangerous. In fact, some countries in the east dismiss it as unlawful. But it is very useful for… removing unwanted enemies," continued Professor Kohl loudly as she paced the platform, around Harry and Marindernia, "You cannot control the Rimonis curse. It does not extinguish energy, as it draws the magic from the user. But magic is easily restored alone, so it is not of any loss. But the pain, when used efficiently, can be great."

She stopped near Harry.

"My dear Marindernia has learnt this particular curse in her third year," she said. Hermione wasn't sure if she was speaking to Harry or the other people in the room. "so you all may find that Harry will be inexperienced," she pulled out her wand, as did Harry, "Now Harry, just repeat the wand movements your dear friend demonstrated, and say the words-" she paused, watching Harry, for he had already raised his wand.

With a hollow, expressionless voice, Harry said quite loudly, _"Rimonis Oculus!"_

Hermione watched, as though in slow motion, as the watching people's faces twisted in horror and a brilliant feeling of warmth erupted in the air. Some girls screamed… Ron gripped his hair with his hands… Professor Kohl and Marindernia watched Harry with a look of enormous interest they wouldn't dream of showing before. Harry's wand did something incredible.

It was as though someone had turned off the sound. The voices around Hermione seemed to have deafened and there was a bright light issuing from somewhere in the midst of it all. Hermione felt Ron seize her arm, his grip tightening… and his voice filled her ears.

_"What was that? Harry!"_

Hermione screamed – with no sudden admonition, she felt herself burning. Her very neck was on fire. She reached up, pushed aside her necklace and laid a cold hand on where she had felt it, her head trobbing with pain.

_"Hermione!"_

Ron's voice came from somewhere. She looked up, hand still on her neck and a pained grimace on her face. She still felt Ron's hand clamped tightly over her wrist and… she realized that her neck was normal again. She straightened up.

Harry was standing on the platform, wand raised. It emitted a soft glow, the endings of a curse. Every face was in awe and all eyes were on him. The headmasters were watching in surprise. Professor Kohl had a hand over her heart.

"That," she said, "was impossible. You're magic… it must have disappeared!"  
            Harry lowered his wand, his face expressionless. Hermione felt that he knew every eye was on him… put he didn't act any differently. His eyes were so bright that they looked as though… they were burning. Without a word, he reached up and touched his forehead.

"My magic is still here," he said softly, "I can feel it in me."

"Can you?" questioned Professor Kohl, "Well… that's ridiculous. Goodness knows how you learnt that curse, boy, but I assure you that a boy such as yourself…"

"It is not impossible," said Harry suddenly, in a very firm voice that made Hermione feel shivers up her spine, "because I just did it. I… haven't learnt the spell. I just understood it."

Marindernia stood, looking dully at Harry. Professor Kohl pulled herself together. She pulled up her sleeves and motioned for Harry and Marindernia to come nearer. She still wanted to do the demonstration.

But Marindernia didn't move.

"I will withdraw from this foolish display of magic," she said, "I am not a competitor. I haven't the strength, nor the power, to duel him," she looked at Harry. So did everyone else. Hermione was biting her lip so hard she tasted the salt of blood, waiting. "I cannot lose, dishonoring my school. Not here, in front of him."

And she did what Ron had done. She jumped off the platform and turned to look at Professor Kohl, who looked surprised.

"Marindernia. Your withdrawing of something as simple as this brings dishonor to Nockdernia of its own accord! Do you dare to defy against you own school?"

Hermione watched Marindernia. She looked very much different than when she was dueling Ron. Her skin was pale and her eyes were dull… but they were watching Harry. 

"He underestimates himself. I do not want to become his enemy," she lowered her head and, amazingly, bent her knees to an unmistakable bow. "I am sorry."

Then she turned and left the hall.

**…~'*'~…**

"The Rimonis curse is advanced and highly dangerous. In fact, some countries in the east dismiss it as unlawful…you cannot control the Rimonis curse. It does not extinguish energy, as it draws the magic from the user… but the pain, when used efficiently, _can be great."_

Hermione awoke, shivering in her damp nightgown. She was sleeping on the sofa in the Gryffindor common room. The blanket she had draped over her was lying on the floor and the fire that was lit before she went to sleep was only emitting a soft glow.

She sat up, rubbing her red and swollen eyes. The clock across the room said it was only five in the morning. This left Hermione to wonder what on earth to do. She was originally waiting for Harry, who wasn't seen since the dueling lesson, to arrive in the common room, but there was no point for it now. He had probably arrived and went to his dormitory without waking Hermione. But Hermione couldn't blame him. What had happened was not something to mention.

She was shivering noticeably now. Getting to her feet, Hermione was suddenly aware of the dull pain on her neck again. It was the same feeling that had hit her when Harry was on the platform. But it was so faint that Hermione nearly missed it. 

She reached up to touch where she felt the pain, and was about to push aside her necklace like she had done before… but with a sickening jolt from the pit of her stomach, she realized that nothing was there. He necklace was gone.

_BANG!_ __

It was loud enough to make Hermione jump back a few feet and almost loose her footing. It sounded like something behind knocked over, just behind the door leaving the common room. Out of pure instinct, Hermione looked around her, spotted her robes lying on an armchair and searched them for her wand in a panic but… she didn't have it with her. But perhaps she didn't need it. It could just be Neville tripping over a bit of carpet or even a clumsy House Elf. So swallowing hard and hoping that she would find Neville facedown in the corridor (though it didn't sound all too good), Hermione approached the door, pulling on her robes.

She wrenched it open and stood back – and found nobody. Instead there was something that made her stomach dissolve. There, scattered across the ground, were the parts of a suit of armor. It was just knocked over; the helmet was rattling to a stop and the arms had just rolled over to the wall. And up ahead, on the opposite shadow, was a retreating shadow.

This wasn't good.

Hermione instantly broke into a run, leaving the door wide open.

"Hey! Wait!" she shouted down the corridor, "STOP!"

They whoever it was didn't obey. Hermione ran the lengths of the corridor and turned sharply. She saw the person, who was dressed in all black, run down the second corridor. They had their back to her and there were no visible characteristics of them for Hermione to get even a slight idea to whom it was. She didn't know why, but Hermione felt that this person, whoever it was, had done something wrong. Something very wrong.

"Stop! Please!"

She followed them, finding her way around pillars and statues by the little light the narrow windows let in. The person in front of her, however, had almost run into another suit of armor as they continuously looked over their shoulder. They seemed very panicky, more than Hermione.

It was when Hermione saw the person skid to a stop and turn to run down another corridor when she realized this chase wouldn't go on for too much longer. He ran, out of all places, down the corridor to the north tower, which Hermione knew was a dead end; the door was locked. She finally came to a complete halt at the end of the corridor, panting for air.

The person was franticly rattling the doorknob and pounding on the door with their fist, but kept their right hand at their side. They were trapped.

Hermione took a deep breath and said, quite strictly, _"Who are you?"_

The person lowered their hand from the resolute door and turned to look at her over their shoulder. They were trembling.

"I-I don't want any trouble," they stuttered in a deep, frightened voice. 

Hermione peered closely at what was obviously a man, stepping nearer, but he recoiled, raising a hand in surrender.

"I only d-do what I'm t-told," he stammered as Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, "I don't want a-any trouble. None at a-a-all."

Hermione could only make out the man's chin and mouth, under his hood. She still had no idea who he was… but she was positive that he was harmless.

"Who are you?" repeated Hermione more firmly.

The man's rattling breath stopped for a moment. He stared at Hermione for a moment, as if debating something. But the dreadful, demanding look in Hermione's eyes made him reach up and pull down his hood. Hermione's breath caught in her throat.

She had seen this man before. His pointed, rat-like face and short, stubby hair triggered a forceful hate in her stomach. He had several bruises and cuts on his face, and now that Hermione knew who it was, she wasn't surprised why this man was afraid. But she was glad… she would rather have such a horrible man suffer.

_"W-Wormtail?"_ gasped Hermione.

The man's eyes darted around the room as if praying for some way of escape. But then, his cold, lifeless eyes landed on Hermione's furious face.

"I-I don't w-want any trouble," he repeated.

 Hermione stared at him. She felt a considerable amount of anger welling up inside her now; she hadn't seen this man since her third year, but what he did… he sold Lily and James Potter's souls to Lord Voldemort. He had blamed Sirius Black for his own murder and was the reason Sirius was on the run for his life. He practically killed Harry's parents… and caused Harry so much grief. Hermione hadn't felt so livid in her life.

"You don't want any trouble?" hissed Hermione angrily, _"You don't want any trouble? _YOU KILLED HARRY'S PARENTS!"

Wormtail shook his head vigorously, "No! No… I didn't! M-my master killed Lily and J-James."

"And you sold their souls to him! You were their secret keeper!" roared Hermione, advancing towards him, "THEY TRUSTED YOU!"

He trembled even harder now, recoiling against the wall at Hermione's advance. His bottom lip trembled wordlessly.

"Harry's always upset now. He has no family to fall back on. He had horrible relatives that treat him like dirt! And you did it…._you killed Harry's parents!" _shouted Hermione even louder.

Wormtail shook his head, as if internally doubting the entire thing. Hermione watched with narrowed eyes as he raised his right hand. She was startled to find that his hand, however, didn't look normal. It was like a thick, shiny glove. And what was more astonishing was what he held in it.

"I-I didn't mean for any trouble to h-happen," he stuttered.

Dangling between his fingers was a gold chain with a familiar emerald pendant.

Hermione's mouth fell open.

_"You-"_

"I-I didn't mean to hurt y-you – someone w-was coming, I p-panicked," said Wormtail in a hurry. He glanced at Hermione's shoulder very briefly and said, "I was sent – he'll kill me if I don't obey!"

Hermione watched him. What was he on about? Who would kill him? And why did she have her necklace?

She raised a hand for it back, "Please. Give it back."

But Wormtail fretfully shook his head.

"I-I can't! He'll…he'll kill me if I don't obey!" he repeated, "But… I do have something-"

He reached inside a pocket of his robes and pulled out something. Hermione, thinking it was a wand, jumped back, startling him. He dropped whatever he held with a frightened squeal.

"I'm s-s-sorry," he said, a look of pure terror on his face, "I-I have to go… your friend will b-be in danger w-when I leave. I'm not supposed to… I-I can't…" he took another fleeting glance around him for a way of escape and looked Hermione in the eyes, "Tell Harry P-Potter that he must be c-careful. My Master has plans for him!"

He took a deep, rattling breath and nodded to Hermione. Then, before Hermione could question him, he disapparated without a trace.

"_Wait!_ What will happen to Harry?" Hermione called out in the darkness. She franticly looked around her, but saw nothing, "WAIT!"  
            But he was long gone. The only sound now was the harsh winds whipping at the windows and the steady gasps of air coming from Hermione.

She had just spoken to Peter Pettigrew, one of Harry's worst enemies, and yet… she felt the smallest bit of sympathy towards him. Someone was going to murder him if he didn't do something, obviously. And he was so frightened. Hermione leaned against the wall, breathing fast. She put her face in her hands. 

It dawned on her that she should have done something. His master was planning to kill Harry!

Hermione sniffed and looked around, remembering that Wormtail had dropped something. She found, in the place where he was standing, a small, harmless-looking book.

Hermione curiously picked it up and peered closely at the cover. It was very old, well around fifty years old, and brown with peeling gold letters on the front. She carefully brushed off the surface of it and read the letters:

_Advanced Guide to Defense Against the Dark Arts, by Erma Devinston._

And turning the cover of the book to the moonlight shining from one of the windows, Hermione discovered more writing on the bottom. It was a small square, a place to write the name of the owner. And looking at it, trying to put each smudged letter together, Hermione's breath caught in her throat when she realized the letters formed a written name:  _James H. Potter._

**_…~'*'~…_**

**_A/N:_**_ I NEED SNOW! _I mean to say, isn't Canada supposed to cold half of each year? And it's only a few days until Christmas. Funny. Last year, it wasn't a white Christmas until Christmas Eve. I'll keep my fingers crossed…

Anyways, this chapter was very differcult. The next one will be even more so, since this story is nearing its end. But I promise you… it'll be good ^_^; Man, will it _ever_ be good! So, as always, I'll try to type in every moment of my spare time to finish this. I'm no quitter… except for my Vampire's Curse story. That reminds me… what would you say if said, "gee, I wonder if I could finished The Vampire's Curse. I found this dusty floppy under my desk and it has nearly all the chapters… I thought I'd lost them. And I still have the written parts of it. Should I post it again, then finish it?" I dunno… by the sounds of it, some of you were pretty bummed out that I deleted it _*cough, cough*_ Katie _*cough, cough*_ So… should I?

**Have a GREAT Holiday and drive safely!**


	21. Harry's Fear

**DragonBlond****: **Haha… I can drive my parent's Jeep now (you know… drive. Go forwards, turn and back up… *grins sheepishly*) but I don't have my license... yet. I'm going for my G1 in the spring. Anyways… you went to Mexico! I've heard nothing but good things. But I wanna go to England, not only because of HP, but also the haunted castles and the musicals and the bistros and the... everything. I've been planning it all out *grins* Glad you like my story! C YA!

**HermioneandHarry4ever:** How… how nice of you. You were tired but you read my fic anyways. Thanks!

**Crankywonderjoe****:** *reads review… makes puzzled face… shakes head with mirth… explodes with VERY loud laughter* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA… *gasp*… HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!! You're funny! Down with H/H? H/G rules? GOSH! You can be the world's next COMEDIAN! *sighs… continues with Author's notes* (Don't take it personally… just joking with you. Believe what you want to believe… just keep in mind that Harry and Hermione _do get together… you know, so you won't be heart broken or anything. Just a warning… *grins evilly*)._

**Brendan: **Thanks for reading! Best wishes!

**Max Lonewolf:** Hey, Max? Can you do me a favour? Talk so sense into CrankyJoe, will ya? Nah, don't do that. So… you used to live in Montreal, eh? That means we're enemies. You know, that whole 'separatists' thing. How's this – we pretend to completely hate each other. Yeah. That'll make us look like enemies. *lip twitches* You say 'Bonjour' and I say 'G'day, eh?' Know what? Forgetaboutit. We don't need any more havoc. I've had enough of this World War 3 rubbish……… *notices she's rambling* Okkkk… anyways, thanks a bunch, eh? 

**ArchForge****:** Interesting... that's a word for it! Thanks!

**Frank:** You're way off, and that makes me happy ^_^; You'll never _guess_ why Hermione got hurt at the duel. Thanks!

**Naomi Silverwolf:** Confusion. That's what I want when you read this. I want you to be confused so you'll be surprised when I unveil my whole idea behind this fic. It'll be good. Stay tuned…

**TheUnknown****:** Ron got some Spotlight, yep! I don't know what got into me.

**…~'*'~…**

**C'MON PEOPLE! THIS FIC IS NEARING ITS END AND ANOTHER IS ON THE HORIZON! LET'S HIT 300 REVIEWS!**

**…~'*'~…**

Hermione didn't know how long she stood for, unmoving in the corridor. Her kneecaps were frozen and her hands only knew to turned the book she held in wonder and astonishment, the warmth of it spreading through her like a forest fire. Her eyes never left the cover of the book, the place with the owner's name was written.

            James H. Potter, Harry's dead relative; a man who was once a loving father to Harry. This was his transfiguration book. It had to be, there was no other explanation. But why… _why did Peter Pettigrew have it?_   

Hermione took a sharp inhale of breath as it finally dawned on her that she was out of bed at night, with no one knowing where she was. She turned on her heels, and looked wildly around. Dread suddenly seeped inside her.

She had to leave. She had to find Dumbledore and tell him – Harry was in danger. The entire school was in danger. Voldemort was coming to the castle and when he would arrive… there would be no telling what he would do.

_She had to find Dumbledore_.

Swallowing hard, Hermione ran to the end of the corridor, clutching the book firmly to her chest, and hurried down a narrow passageway that she hoped was the way to the Grand Hall. The sleeping witches and warlocks and ghouls snorted and grunted in their portraits as Hermione flashed past them, not making any effort whatsoever to keep as quiet as possible. One of them, a portrait of a wizard sitting in a tavern with a tankard in font of him, fell off their stool and squealed, "Watch it, lass! I've only got two pints left!"

The corridors seemed to get longer and longer as Hermione passed them. It was when Hermione passed the owlry when she started running faster then she ever had before. Panting and wheezing, she came to a complete halt at the mouth of the corridor.

The Grand Hall was empty, but looking around, Hermione noticed a door that most of the Professors went through. It hadn't occurred to her – perhaps that was the way to the staff room.

Mentally shaking the nervousness out of her system, Hermione darted across the hall to the door. She skidded to a halt just outside it, gasped the handle and attempted to open it, but realized, with an inwardly scream of frustration, that it was locked. She reached inside her robes to pull out her wand, but forgot it wasn't with her. 

"Oh, no," she choked, pounding on the door, "Open! Please open! Professor Dumbledore! _PLEASE!"_

"He's not in there."

Her heart stopped and her words caught in her throat. Hermione turned to flatten herself against the door. For a moment, she thought she heard a bodiless voice. But wildly looking around the hall, trying ever so much to see through the darkness, she saw something moving in the shadows between two pillars on the opposite wall. Hermione's knees weakened.

"You shouldn't be here. Not now. Not at so late at night without the Professors prowling the corridors," said the familiar voice, "Someone might think you're up to something."

The shadow moved along the pillars. Hermione could almost feel their eyes, whoever it was, piercing through her like a knife. It was a very uneasy feeling, and the figure was making no moves to advance on her.

Hermione thought quickly. Could it be Wormtail or Malfoy? Obviously, whoever was lurking there was aiming to frighten her, and it was working. Even more realization dawned on Hermione as she quickly pondered this; what if it was Voldmort?

She looked at her surroundings, her possible escape routes. There was the corridor where she came from, but there was nowhere to go that way; the other choice she had was the way that led to the classrooms, where there was a possibility a Professor may be staying late at night… but she'd have to get over the four school tables to do it. And there was another door that led to the entrance hall. Hermione looked back at the moving shadow, which was advancing on her by now.

The person stepped into the light… Hermione could see every part of him, right up to his bright eyes. Her breath caught in her throat. Her knees buckled, for the person that was lurking there among the pillars was someone she knew very well.

It was Harry.

Hermione stared at him, a feeling of utter relief sweeping all through her. 

"Harry, don't scare me like that!" she half shouted at him.

He didn't move; he wouldn't stop watching her. Hermione ran over to him, seized his wrist and began to drag him across the hall to the corridor that lead to the classrooms, as there was no other way. He didn't refuse.

"Listen," Hermione panted as they hurried down the corridor, "I can't believe - I m-met… er, I mean… I just spoke to Peter P-Pettigrew in the North Tower corridor! He took the necklace you gave me for Christmas when I was asleep in the common room and he said that You-Know-Who was planning some kind of plan to hurt you!"

She kept her hand firmly clamped over Harry's wrist as they ran, full-out, down the corridor past classroom doors. Hermione didn't looked twice at the closed doors… if someone was up, preparing a test or writing new work for tomorrow's class, they would surely leave the door open and a light on inside.

"He said that someone would kill him if he didn't obey doing something," Hermione continued as they rounded a corner, almost skidding into the opposite wall, "He didn't want to admit he hurt your parents in any way. He didn't want anything to do with it! So he warned me about You-Know-Who and he dropped a book… I don't know what's inside. You'll never guess who it belongs to." They ran to the end of the corridor and Hermione paused to open a door, "Harry, It belongs to-"

She came to a complete halt. She expected Harry to run into her from behind, but he didn't. Perhaps he was amazed at what had happened too, for the door they had went through was the same door Hermione thought lead to the staff room… the same door she was begging to open before Harry appeared. It was unlocked.

"What the-"

Hermione looked around the hall in frustration. Her eyes landed on the door that lead to the entrance hall.

"C'mon, Harry, we have to find Dumbledore! There's no other possible way we could go!"

She didn't drag him across the hall this time; she bolted to the door, suspecting that Harry was soon to follow, and seized the door handle, but again, it was locked.

Hermione was starting to get aggravated. She put all her weight on the door, but no avail. She looked around at Harry, who was standing a few yards away from her, watching.  
            "Don't just stand there," she grunted, "Help me!"

She proceeded to push open the door. No footsteps came from behind her. Hermione didn't see Harry standing next to her, helping her with the door. She looked back at him, annoyed.

"Harry, help me with this door!" she hissed at him.

"No, I don't think I will."

Hermione looked over at him again, groaning in exasperation, wondering how Harry could act like such a prat at a time like this.

"Harry, this is no time to-"

She stopped speaking almost at once, for she noticed something she hadn't before. Harry didn't look right; he looked malicious, with a hard grimace and his eyes were so cold. He slowly walked up towards her as though gliding, and looked down at her.

"Stop trying so hard," she said softly. Then he sneered.

Hermione's mouth trembled, not knowing what to do.

"Hermione Granger," said Harry, "Do you think you know what you are doing?"

Hermione stared at him. "W-what are you talking about?"

Harry laughed softly. The foreboding he brought amused him. He brought his wand he held to her face and gently lifted her hair from her eyes. 

"You are up to something, aren't you?"

Hermione gaped absentmindedly. What was wrong with him? Why was he acting this way? There was surely something dark about him… like he was being controlled. There was just something not right with the feeling in her stomach.

"What's going on, Harry?" Hermione asked him seriously, her voice trembling slightly, "You're acting strange."

He smiled.

"So you've noticed?" he told her. His eyes gleamed crimson for a moment, the moonlight falling across his pale face, "You've noticed that the great Harry Potter is acting differently, around you? What makes you think that I do not act like this regularly?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes, "Because Harry would at least feel a sense of knowing when something is not funny."

There was something not right in his eyes. They didn't show any emotion with Hermione's last comment. Hermione's stomach dissolved, realizing something.

"W-who are you?" Hermione found herself asking.

A soft, sharp chuckle answered her question, and Harry spoke again, this time with utter scornfulness.

"That's really not necessary. You wouldn't bother, nor would you like to know-" he took a careful step forwards. Hermione backed up against the door – her heels hit the door.

"Do you realize what you've just done? Can you comprehend what will happen now, after your foolish mistake? You've willingly told me everything I've wanted to hear… for so long," said Harry. He touched her hand, and Hermione violently pulled her arm away. His eyes grew hungrier and his thin lips were in a grimace. "You're a clever individual, Granger. Top of the class, would-be Head Girl… but I'm afraid that you've lead this world of ours to… _deteriorate._" He laughed softly, approaching the trembling girl. He raised a cold hand and gently caressed her cheek. Hermione felt a tear fall down her cheek as her lip trembled helplessly. "My dear girl… you're killed the Light Side without lifting a delicate finger."

"W-what do you mean?" Hermione murmured, tilting her head so his fingertips left her neck.

Harry smiled at her, his eyes gleaming red again. They were sincere, but they had none of Harry's kindness. In fact… they were hollow and cold. But they were bright. Just like Harry's.

"Pettigrew was here on an assignment, Granger. He's been following you and your friends ever since Hogwarts… on the grounds, in your lessons and your dorms… he's been following you particularly for the past few months Granger. Because you had something I wanted. Do you know what that is?" He touched her hand, but Hermione pulled her arm away and pushed herself out of the space between him and the locked door behind her. 

Harry advanced on her again, this time pulling out his wand.

"Ever since I arrived here, on account of Peter Pettigrew's messages, I've been quick to notice every move you made, every step you'd take, every single mistake you made… and still, my plans have been twisted and altered," continued Harry, an almost hungry look in his eyes now, "It's only a last resort that I've made my presence known here in this castle… on account of a very ill-advised mistake Peter has thoughtlessly made."

Hermione's lip quivered, but she couldn't help but wonder if Harry had finally gone mad.

"W-what's wrong with you? Who are y-you?" she blurted out in a rush of words.

She immediately regretted speaking. Harry grimaced, and twirling his wand between his fingers, approached her until there was barely any space between them. Hermione could feel his cold breath on his neck, but she couldn't move. His wand was prodding her in the ribs, and she was sure that wasn't accidental. He wanted to frighten her.

"Potter is very taken with you," he hissed in her ear very softly, "I've poked around in his thoughts, pushed past all the debris of the pointless schooling, and provoked his most deepest secrets. I can tell you some of them, if you have no objections." Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, trying her hardest not to cry out in pain as he pushed his wand farther into her side, "The death of his parents frustrates him deeply… he feels that he doesn't assimilate… that he's utterly unwanted in a place like this. More importantly," he exhaled deeply, as if a small laugh escaped him, "he fears fear."

Hermione couldn't take it any more. She didn't understand what was going on… this wasn't Harry. Harry wouldn't do this to her, hurting her with his own wand, trying dearly to frighten her, breathing down her neck like he knew no sense of personal space. With a cry of frustration, she ducked beneath his elbow and pushed herself away.

"_Stop!_" she cried, "I don't know what you're on about, but I certainly don't need to hear it, because… _YOU ARE NOT HARRY!"_

Harry's look softened, but the grimace on his face was clearer than ever. He thrust his wand out in front of him; Hermione screamed and ducked, thinking that he was going to curse her, but found that he had merely aimed at the stone ground before them. Hermione looked up and with a startling jolt, saw what he had done.

He had summoned some sort of swirling ball of flames. It hovered just above the ground, creating a very eerie glow all around the hall. It was so bright Hermione had to cover her eyes, but at the same time she realized that there were two dark, shapeless shadows within the flames.

Behind the flames stood Harry, who was watching Hermione, his eyes flashing.

"And this is what Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived… fears."

The ball of flames erupted all at once like a small explosion and the shadowed figures collapsed on the ground. Hermione watched, aghast, as the figures took the shape of a bundle of robes… it was two wizards. They were surrounded by misty, red light, pale faced and eyes closed. But there was no denying their gaunt faces.

It was Ron and Sirius Black. 

_"OH!"_

 Without thinking, Hermione made a desperate attempt to run to them, but Harry's booming voice stopped her.

"DON'T MOVE, YOU FILTHY MUDBLOOD!"  
            Hermione, tears falling freely from her eyes, fell to her knees in defeat. She buried her face in her hands, sobbing hysterically. She knew she couldn't do anything; she was powerless. Harry had Ron and Sirius. It was obvious that if she tried anything, he'd hurt them.

Harry started speaking again, this time, his voice deeper and colder, most unlike Harry in every way. It froze Hermione's insides.

"Harry Potter's greatest fear reveals a sign of complete weakness!" he hissed angrily. His voice was coming closer, but Hermione didn't look up. "The boy who defeated the Dark Lord has a fear… of causing pain to those near him._ Those he loves."_

Hermione stopped. She looked up. Harry was only a few feet away from her, a spineless, revolting sneer set on his pale, ashen face. His eyes… they were reflecting the red light that was emitting from Ron and Sirius… but were they?

Harry raised his wand, and pointed it at Hermione.

But Hermione didn't have time to retaliate… to move away.

His wand erupted.

_"CRUCIO!" _he shrieked.__

There was nothing to prevent the pain Hermione was about to feel. Her very head was going to explode; her bones were like scorching hot irons; the feeling of knives piercing through her skin spread throughout her entire body, agonizing her to a point that she wanted to die there. She screamed like she thought she never could… it was pain beyond anything she couldn't ever imagine. And to think… Harry had gone through this before. Harry had once felt her pain. No… she felt _his pain._

"It is my greatest pleasure to see Potter suffer, Mudblood, and for that…" said Harry, his wand still raised. He jerked his wand upwards, making Hermione shriek the way he longed for her to. His lips curled into a twisted smile. "-I need your soul."

Hermione felt her knees leave the ground… her legs straightened out and her feet dangled freely. She didn't know what was happening; she couldn't open her eyes. Not now. By the time the last of her screeching pain left her lips, she was exhausted. She tasted the salt of blood and she could feel it run down her face.

Then all at once, she heard a booming voice hiss a command, and suddenly, she found that her legs and arms snap to her side. Even if she wanted to move, she couldn't.

"This is where I take revenge, Mudlood. This is where I teach the Great Harry Potter that he is as insignificant as the rest of the people in this pathetic world!" shouted Harry angrily, his voice deep and cold and icy, not like it was before, "I will bring his fear, the fear of causing hurt to those he knows, into his past, present and future!"

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, tears falling from her cheeks onto her front, and waited for the worst…

"And you, Mudblood, cannot possibly stop me. No wand. No magical blood. You're worthless… just like Lily Potter. It's a pity you'll end up like her-"

Hermione waited for more, but he had stopped completely. She had just enough strength to look down, where she saw, far below her, Harry was standing, looking right at her. His face was expressionless.

Then the strangest thing happened. It was like Harry was picking a fight with himself. His face tensed, and his mouth was no longer in a grimace, put a pained scowl. He made a noise of frustration, and at the same time, his hands gripped his hair, eyes squeezed shut.

Hermione, though very little strength left, had enough will to at least try to see what was happening to him. 

Harry looked like he was about to put his head between his knees, still gripping her hair, when suddenly, he snapped back up and his eyes flew open. Then he shrieked something that was the least expected. But his voice has changed to Harry's. "STOP! YOU FOUL FILTH! YOU'RE PATHETIC!"

And once again, he found Hermione, suspended in mid-hair, blood falling from her face to her robes barely able to look back at him. His mouth fell open and his face contorted to astonishment.

Suddenly, there was a deafening BANG from the other end of the Grand Hall. Hermione could have sighed of relief; it was the door. Someone was coming to rescue them.

But Harry didn't make a move to hurt Hermione. In fact, he dropped his wand with a clatter. Hermione watched the puzzling scene below her; Harry slowly started backing away, eyes wide with terror, his eyes traveling from Ron and Sirius and Hermione… he wasn't even aware of the Ministry wizards running towards them.

"Defectis!" someone shouted. There was a blast of orange light, and Hermione felt herself falling. She landed on something soft.

It was very blurry after that. Hermione felt someone putting her on her feet, and she leaned on whoever it was. There were voices everywhere.

"Get her to the Infirmary, quick. The Matron is awake and waiting-"

"He's caused quite a bit of damage."

"_Black! Sirius Black! Look here-"_

Hermione's legs were very wobbly. She could barely stand. Her head was pounding. The person holding her had half carried her to one of the house tables – Hermione didn't know which – and laid her down on it.

"Get this boy out of here. He's caused enough trouble."

"Sir… he won't move. I think he's paralyzed-"

"He certainly is not paralyzed! Get him to the dungeons at once!"

Hermione, breathing deeply, opened her eyes. She saw he matron rushing towards her with a stretcher, her face paling at the sight of her lying on the table. She saw the Ministry wizards, all in which were shouting angrily, dragging Harry across the hall.

Hermione watched his face. He was still watching her, looking panic stricken. The Ministry wizards had managed to drag his tense and unmoving body to the entrance of the corridor at the end of the hall and as Hermione watched, he suddenly looked like he realized what was happening.

"HERMIONE!" he shouted.

It sounded like Harry. It even looked more like Harry now, but Hermione didn't understand it. He started thrashing, trying with all his might to get out to the Ministry wizard's grasps. He was trying to get to Hermione.

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE, IT WASN'T ME! I DIDN'T MEAN TO-"

There was nothing Hermione could do to prevent it. The wizard on the left of Harry seized a bludgeon from his belt. He hit Harry over the head with it. Harry collapsed, his head falling to his chest.

It was the last thing Hermione saw before she slipped into unconsciousness.

**…~'*'~…**

There was a clink of keys followed by a scraping of feet; then the sound of a cell door screeching open. 

Harry didn't resist the entire way down to the dungeons. Nor did he plan to. One of the wizards who brought him here, whose face he dared not look at, pushed him ruthlessly into the cell. Harry didn't even raise his hands in an attempt to stop himself from hitting the opposite wall; he hit it and slumped to the bottom, his shoulders stinging with pain.

The men who had brought him here locked his cell and left the dungeons, slamming the door behind them.

Whether what had happened was a dream or it was a cruel, inhuman joke, Harry kept his eyes closed… remembering the way Hermione looked when he laid eyes on her in the hall. The blood running down her face, her barely open eyes… the look on her face…it made Harry's heart stop. She looked so afraid, yet weary. Harry knew it look her great will to look down at him, to see what the matter was. And he had no recollection of what he did to her, Ron and Sirius. What was he thinking?

Harry didn't know how long he sat, motionless in the cell he was condemned to… his cell. He looked around at the place where he knew he was going to spend the rest of the year.

Green water dripped from the ceiling to a puddle of the substance in the middle of the stone room; there was a metal tin and goblet on a moldy green tray in the corner. The only light came from the small bard gap that was obviously held in place by magic. His entire cell was protected my magic; the walls glistened green even as he looked around. There was no way he'd got out by force.

Harry's lip curled into a hard grimace.

BANG!

The door at the end of the passageway outside Harry's cell burst open. Several new voices were heard. Harry, breathing hard, expecting a Dementor, drew his knees to his chest and lowered his head. Regardless to whom it was, he didn't want to see them.

Three Ministry wizards hurried inside, their footsteps echoing off the walls as they ventured down the row of cells. The man ahead called McNair glared inside every cell, looking for some form of life until he stopped to the very last one. The boy was huddled in the corner, his head buried in his robes. His thin lips curled into a twisted smile.

"Here," he said to the others following, "is the boy who caused this disaster. The people he attacked are unconscious. Barely breathing. The Matron of this school is doing all she can to revive them." He paused, "Despite who the third victim appears to be."

They watched Harry for a moment.

"I suppose… it would be fair to, ah, question him?" said one of the men. Harry recognized this voice.

"Nonsense!" said one of the men who was without a doubt Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, "The boy committed a serious crime! He's dangerous… very deranged! What's more, I specifically saw him – this boy – using a most unusual spell towards the girl in the infirmary! He was watching her, wand at hand!" He spluttered for a moment, finding more words to say, "He's a menace to every student in this school. Merlin knows who he's after, the bloody rogue."

Silence followed. Perhaps they were waiting for the boy in the cell to react with the last comment the Minister made.

"So as to where he's staying, Minister," said the other man hesitantly, the man whom Harry found very familiar, "I do not agree with this dungeon."

"He'll stay here for as long as I like… until we find a place in Azkaban for him."

Harry gritted his teeth, clenched and unclenched his hands and swallowed the rush of words he longed to shout.

            "So… he'll go to Azkaban… for life?" continued the man. Harry recognized his voice now. His stomach fell in realization… he clenched his eyes closed, fighting the prickles in the corner of his eyes.

"I will take this particular issue in my hands. The poor people didn't need this, during the Tournament" said Fudge somberly, "And Arthur… I'm sincerely sorry about your son. He was a good lad."

Fudge had never really met Ron. He didn't speak more than a sentence to him. Harry's throat burned in anger; if they didn't leave soon, Harry would certainly do something drastic to stop Fudge from telling lies.

They left the dungeon. One man stayed behind. He gazed through the bars into the cell at the boy who hadn't moved since he had entered. He wondered if he had really done this; Molly adored him and he was such a good kid. Did he really possess the will to put three people whom he loved unconscious?

"Get out of this one alive, Harry. Ron would have wanted it that way."

**…~'*'~…**

**A/N:** *sigh* One more exam to go… Cosmetology. That won't be difficult. Math was unbearable, but English was OK. I've got accounting, art, photography and Biology next semester. 

Anyways, you can guess why I'm a little sluggish on this chapter. All those late night study meetings with my friends. Well, I'm getting through it and I'll finish this. Yep… I will. Thanks a bunch everybody! Luv yahs!


	22. Altering the Future

_Crankywonderjoe__: Obviously, you can't take a joke. You can believe what ship you want to believe, but I will tell you that I am not sure that Harry and Hermione get together _for sure_. It's just a logical assumption on my part. So I cannot give you reasons that it _will_ be Harry and Hermione that get together. The only person who knows that is JK Rowling herself. Thanks for your review._

_J: To me, the way I update this story __is frequent. ^_^ I've got school and all the other stuff (which I am thrilled you understand). I try to write whenever I can, though. And your comments are flattering! Thanks!_

_Archforge__: Wow, thanks so much! I love writing actions scenes (noticed, have you?) And I'm glad you could imagine what went on in the last chapter, like you were there yourself, because I can do the same thing! _

_Malu__: A huge fan? Honestly? Well, that very well made my day! Thanks very much!_

_Malones2007: I'm glad you like it! And thanks for the tip, I'll keep it in mind if I'm stuck ^_^_

_Amora__: I agree. Fudge needs to die… lets form a band of Hinkypunks and Grindylows, shall we? And we can bowl down the Ministry, and when we find him… *blink*… anyways, thanks for your review!_

_E.C.R Potter: You'll have to wait s'more to review. There may be another cliffhanger coming up *wink*._

_DragonBlond__: Indeedy, the plot thickens! But I MUST stop you on one thing… **I don't think there will be a sequel for this fic.** Sorry. But I'm writing a story that comes in a series, if it makes you happy. Just please… no wombats._

_Eliza: Er… your welcome *realizes that she's been saying nothing but 'thank yous' for all the author notes and not one 'your welcome'* Boy, that was different. Anyways, here's the next chapter and please do not kill yourself over suspense. And please do not let me kill you with suspense… oh, and please don't die of suspense… *sigh* whatever..._

**…~'*'~…**

**JUNE 21, 2003** – WHEN HARRY POTTER LIVES AGAIN! (And we all thought he was hibernating…)****

**…~'*'~…**

Hermione moaned. Every part of her body ached. She kept her eyes squeezed shut and her arms at her side, not daring to move from her comfortable bed and soft covers. But before she could settle back down, she felt something cold being pressed against her lips. A substance being poured into her mouth. She swallowed obediently, spluttering a little.

She felt someone touch her forehead. Then a muffled cry. Was someone crying?

"How is she doing?" said a voice from the far right of her.

Another sob, followed by the sound of a door closing. Hermione didn't know where she was. The voices were unfamiliar; they sounded uninviting and cold. And the cries were disturbing her. Before she could debate the consequences, Hermione opened her eyes.

She was in the infirmary in Dryconderoga. Her arms were bandaged and her legs felt like led; she started to panic, because before long, she realized she couldn't move them.

"_Argh__! W-what's going-"_

A pair of hands seized her shoulders and forced her back into the pillows of her hospital bed. Hermione started to cry.

"Hermione! For heaven's sake, it's me!" cried a voice franticly.

Hermione opened her eyes and saw the short and plump Mrs. Weasley, her hands fastened tightly on her shoulders, her face blotchy and her fly-away hair in complete disarray. Hermione stopped fighting at once.

"Y-you! What happened… how did I-" she gasped and she almost felt the colour drain from her face in one big rush, "Where's Ron? Sirius? I don't know what happened to them, and…" she paused, "Where's Harry?"

Mrs. Weasley's grip on her shoulders softened, but didn't let go. The urgency in her face faded and was replaced by utter misery. It was then when Hermione's stomach dissolved and her mouth went dry when it dawned on her; something horrible happened when she was away.

Without thinking, Hermione threw her covers back and attempted to swing her legs out of the bed. But she found that she still couldn't move them.

"What's going on!" cried Hermione, tears falling freely from her eyes now, _"What h-happened to me?"_

   The Matron heard the shouts and came skidding into the Infirmary from her office. Wand out, she hurried to Hermione's bed.

   "Your legs are just healing! It's a spell to stop them from moving! Please – _sit still!" she shrieked, "Abaricus!"_

   Hermione's legs sprang to life. The feeling returned in them. She hurriedly swung her feet off her bed, tears blinding her vision, and fell to the ground in a heap. Mrs. Weasley screamed.

_'I must get up!' Hermione thought, '__Where's Ron? What happened to Sirius? They'll be calling in the Dementors any moment now. They'll kill him for sure!'_

She scrambled to her feet, clutching her bed franticly, fending off Mrs. Weasley and the Matron from leading her back. 

"Keep away… from m-me! I need to find – where's Sirius? I… I don't know-" 

Hermione stumbled to the end of the bed next to hers. She could see the next two occupied beds properly now. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt her knees buckle beneath her weight. 

It was Ron and Sirius in each bed, both with a white sheet draped over their pale, ailing bodies. Their eyes with closed. They didn't move… there was no look of liveliness in their faces. 

Hermione felt like getting sick.

"They're not-" she started, looking at the Matron.

   The Matron frowned – Mrs. Weasley burst into tears – and miserably glanced at the two people in the beds. The look in her face told Hermione that she looked after them long enough.

   Then the Matron nodded. Yes, they were dead.

   Silence. Hermione stood there, not moving a muscle, not daring to believe what she saw. It was above her ability to dwell on how much one simple movement could introduce someone to such indescribable sorrow. How it can define ones fears and make the horrors of their life worsen. And deflate their heart in one considerable blow. It was like Hermione herself had died… just like they did.

   She bowed her head, tears running down her cheeks onto her night gown. 

   "No… It c-can't-" she sniffed unintelligently, "T-they can't p-possibly be…" She trailed off, voice cracking.

More silence. Then, "The boy who did this – Harry Potter – has been sent to the dungeons under the school. He's waiting for a sentence of life imprisonment in Azkaban, where he can't harm any others, "said the Matron quietly, "These two are to be sent to Hogwarts first thing tomorrow, dear. There's nothing left to do with them." She paused. "The Tournament ha been canceled. Everyone is being sent home. You… you're to be leaving Dryconderoga tomorrow as well, with your friends," she paused, "Won't that bring a little relief?"

Hermione brought her hands to her face, turning away from Ron and Sirius. She dared not look at them again. She couldn't handle it. The sickening feeling in her stomach was rising in her throat.

   "Harry and Ron w-were my friends. Without them… I'm n-nothing." She couldn't handle it. The pressure was rising in her chest. She felt like he was going to explode with tears. 

   The images of Ron flashed through her mind. When she met him on the first train ride to Hogwarts; a tall, gangling, freckled boy with a very bothersome attitude had snubbed her in their first meeting, but was as much as a friend anyone could as for. And Harry… he was dark and silent. Raven-black hair that always fell into his bright green eyes… green eyes that made the world around her dissolve when she'd glance at him. And his scar… it was such a wonderful scar. He loved Sirius like a replacement Father, whom she'd remembered had cared for his friend's son so much. He was a brilliant man. But she was to never see them again.

   It was then when Hermione realized… she wished she had meet Ron and Sirius's fate. She was better off dead.

   There was nothing left.

   Hermione screamed… frustrated, she spun on her heels to Mrs. Weasley and the Matron… face read and blotchy, a pained look in her eyes, she screamed all she could.

   "I'M NOTHING WITHOUT THEM! THEY'VE CHANGED MY LIFE AND I… I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE TO SEE THEIR D-DEATH!" she was sobbing uncontrollably now, "I SAW THEM! I SAW THEM LYING ON THE GROUND, AND I THOUGHT THEY WERE ALIVE! I WAS STUPID… I-I FEARED FOR MY OWN LIFE! MINE! I WAS SELFISH," she had to say in now. There was no backing out, _"AND NOW, I WISH I WAS D-DEAD!"_

   When she finished, Mrs. Weasley had a hand over her mouth. The Matron look stunned. But Hermione didn't wait for explanations. She didn't care that she hadn't yet mastered the use of her legs just yet. She couldn't stay there in the Infirmary. With great effort, she stumbled forwards, towards the Infirmary door, stumbling on her night gown, tears still falling freely from her red and squinting eyes. The Matron's arms tried and failed to seize her arms – Hermione collapsed on the door and fell to the floor was the door flung open with her weight.

   Even now she didn't stop. Every part of her was aching; both her knees were bleeding and a large bruise was growing on her check where the door struck her. 

   "I-I can't s-s-stay here… I mustn't," she mumbled, trying to turn over to her hands and knees, "F-find… Harry-"

   She heard the slam of a door overhead. She looked up. The Weasley family was approaching her – Mr. Weasley, Ginny, Bill, Charlie and the twins. They spotted her. Ginny screamed something; Fred and George started running towards her.

   _"N-no!_ I mustn't s-stay," gasped Hermione. She collapsed on the floor in exhaustion.

   Strong hands lifted her up; the twins were bringing her back into the Infirmary. They were going to bring her back to the dead bodies of Ron and Sirius.

   She started twisting madly. She felt another pair of hands seize her wrists, holding her down. Hermione started screaming, wishing that with this, they'd let her go. She didn't want to go back… not to be healed.

   Hermione had finally pulled hard enough. She felt the grips of the Weasley twins leave her. She was falling. Then someone else was screaming, joining the fray of voices.

   "HERMIONE! STOP! NOOOOOOOOOO!"

   That was it.

   The voices had gone all at once. 

Ginny wasn't screaming. 

The twins weren't groping for her flailing arms.

But Hermione's head felt like it was about to explode. For a moment, she felt like the Cruciatus curse was set on her again. She squeezed her eyes shut to numb the pain rising in her chest… with was flowing through her entire body. Light flashed by her closed eyes. She opened her mouth, about to yell in pain. But as soon as it started, it stopped… all at once.

She was comfortable again. She was standing on something hard… then the thought came to her. _I'm in the Infirmary again. How did I get here? She found her leg and gave it a great pinch and winced in pain shortly after._

Soon, the silence was starting to unnerve her. She decided to open her eyes a slit and saw a dense black, then opened them all the way. It was like she hadn't opened her eyes at all. Ginny, Mr. Weasley, Bill, Charlie… they had all gone. The Infirmary door had disappeared. It was all black.

Hermione opened her mouth to yell something, but froze.

There was a noise coming from somewhere. Hermione whirled around, staring blankly around the darkened area, her face paling with fear. The noise started growing louder. Was it… music? Hermione listened harder. It was loud and muffled slightly, but becoming clearer as it drew nearer; it made Hermione look franticly around, breathing hard… her heart was beating very fast now. Then Hermione found that it wasn't music and it wasn't noise… someone was talking.

"W-who's there?" Hermione shouted at the darkness, voice trembling. 

Behind her came an answer. It was a deep, clear voice that was very near.

"Hermione Granger. You've arrived at last."

Hermione gasped and jumped. She spun around and saw exactly what was behind her.

An antique-looking carved table appeared there. Light cascaded onto it from somewhere above like an invisible skylight. And sitting at the table were two witches and a wizard. It was the wizard who was speaking.

"It is Hermione Granger, is it not?" said the man. Hermione's immediate impression was someone like Dumbledore. His face was bright but serious and a large, purple hat that resembled the Sorting Hat, only without the patches and face, was sitting atop his short, brown hair. He was wearing an ancient cloak, the kind Hermione saw wizards wearing the textbooks of A History of Magic. And on the breast of it was an ancient emblem of the Gryffindor house.

He gestured to an empty chair at the other end of the table, across from him.

"Please sit and our gathering can begin," he said quietly. 

Hermione shuffled to the chair, eyes still on the wizard, her face pale, but didn't sit.

"W-where am I?" She asked the wised wizard with a quivering voice.

One of the witches leaned forwards over the table. She had a plump, round face that looked cheery and she wore ancient robes like the wizard did… only she was wearing the Hufflepuff shield upon them. Hermione stared at her.

"You are in the past, Hermione, when Hogwarts was newly built and the students within the walls are few," she told her with quite a serious face, "You've been sent here for a very important matter that will affect your life," she paused, letting these words sink in, "Our time is short… your time is short as well. We haven't long here, Hermione. You mustlisten."

Hermione hesitated. Had she really gone back in time? If she had, how did she do it? There wasn't a time turner nearby… she didn't know any other method of time travel. The last thing she remembered was… she was falling. 

"Please sit, Miss. Granger, we haven't long," pressed the wizard.

Hermione sighed unevenly. There was nothing for it. She nodded and sat in the vacant chair. The witch who spoke to her smiled warmly.

"Thank you."

"Miss. Granger," the other witch spoke now. She peered closely at Hermione over her spectacles, just like Professor McGonagall would do. There was a Ravenclaw emblem on the front of her robes. Hermione, slightly curious about this, tried to listen, "We understand your and a great number of other people's lives are being threatened. Just days ago, you have been unsuspectingly thrown into the hands of evil with no defense to speak of-"

Hermione couldn't help herself.

"How do you know this? Who are you?"

"Please, Miss. Granger, there is not much time!" said the witch hastily, "This moment with you is limited and the world's existence is at hand! This is certainly not something to-"

"If I may," interrupted the wizard loudly. The witch went silent at once, "I daresay you'd not like the idea of the world ending without any notification on your part, Miss. Granger."

Hermione gulped and leaned back in her chair to indicate she would stay silent. The plump witch started this time.

"Hermione, dear, your past is endangered. Your presence is being threatened at this very moment, and if you don't do something, the life existence as you know it will vanish. We understand this… Hogwarts has been threatened with horrors for centuries. But I assume you know all about that," she smiled kindly, "There will be a chance for you to change the future, dear. There is hope and your future can be corrected."

Hermione stared the rough surface of the table, thinking. She felt like she knew these people so well… but she hadn't met them in her life. Had she?

"Do you mean the things that are happening? In the castle?" she asked, looking up.

"Yes. We're speaking of the horrific times you and your friends are facing at this very moment," said the wizard, his eyes glinting in the light, "You've been through much, Miss. Granger. You've witnessed a terrible thing and your friends are vanishing before you. Two are dead. One is better off claimed diseased," his eyes flashed momentarily. "It is he who caused you this pain, is it?"

Hermione's lips went thin and resentment was coursing through her. She shook her head slightly.

"He hasn't caused me pain. I-I wasn't there when he… killed those people. He almost spared me. I just… I don't know," said Hermione softly, choking on her words slightly, "He wasn't the same. He'd never k-kill someone… certainly not his best friends."

The corner of the wizard's lips twitched. He leant towards the table, folding his hands before him on its surface. "Who is this boy you speak of? You have not mentioned his name."

It was like he wanted to hear something he already knew. Like he wanted to hear it for pleasure; it was an impression only Dumbledore had given her before. Hermione frowned at him.

"H-Harry Potter. He was the one who killed those people," she said so quietly she wasn't sure they had heard her.

He beamed at her.

"The mind is a curious thing, Miss. Granger," he told her, "It instructs us what to do, controls our every movement. Makes us believe things that are false. It is our mind's functions that make a mind so dangerous, so vulnerable… so open for visitors. But what if you had no control? No use of your mind?"

Hermione didn't know what he was getting at. But she couldn't resist answering.

"It'd be a terrible thing," she told him slowly, "Loosing your mind would be… loosing your body."

He smiled even wider. The plump witch to the left of her chuckled merrily as if nothing could thrill her more than just listening.

"Exactly," said the wizard, looking pleased, "Loosing your body. That's exactly right. With that in mind, what do you think Harry would be capable of if he lost control of his body, his every movement and his mind?"

Hermione felt like she was screwing up her brain in concentration. There was something in that they were telling her. It wasn't a moral… it was somehow connected to the things that were happening. He had said it so meaningfully.

Her mind flickered back to the night where she meat Pettigrew. She ran to find Dumbledore; Harry found her; and it all started from there. He wasn't acting at all normal. His eyes, his sneer, his touch… it was unfamiliar. He had done so many horrible things that night, and all the time, Hermione treated him like a different person.

Then it clicked.

Hermione's mouth fell open.

The look of sudden astonishment on Hermione's face made the plump witch giggle with excitement once more. The wizard nodded.

"You understand right, Miss. Granger. I knew you'd understand eventually," he told her.

Hermione was at a loss for words. Questions blossomed in her head and her mouth gaped wordlessly. She was blank for a moment, and she was suddenly aware that the wizard and witches were watching her attentively. She mumbled unintelligently at first.

"What… I-I don't understand," she said, "Harry's mind was… being controlled? He wasn't possessed, was he? Who could have done it?"

"Can you think of no one?" said the witch, peering closely at her over her spectacles, "Can you think of such a person who's desire is so deep that they'd go to any lengths… to hurt Harry Potter in any way possible?"

Hermione stared at her in contemplation. Her first thought was Peddigrew. She was reminded of the third task and the graveyard… he was a Death Eater, and what's more, he had stolen her necklace, attacked Malfoy and had probably been watching her and Harry all year. But then… she was reminded of the white face in her dream. The man with the red eyes and the skin pulled so tightly over his face she could see the outlines of his skull…

"Do you mean… You-Know-Who?" she said, eyes wide and face pale.

The witch with the glasses made a noise of disgust as she threw her hands up in the air. The wizard silenced her with a strict look.

"Yes. He's been watching you, Hermione. You and Mr. Potter," he told her, looking somber, "You'll find out why soon enough, but right now… please learn something from this," he sighed, "It's Voldemort, Miss. Granger. Lord Voldemort. Fear of the name only increases the fear itself."

Hermione remembered Dumbledore had said that last line to Harry once… he told her about it. She didn't stay on that fact for long, because the plump-faced witch pulled out a wand from her robe. Hermione watched in awe as she made a sort of complicated wiggle and said something Hermione couldn't understand. Then something appeared in front of her. Hermione's stomach gave a funny jolt.

_It was the book Wormtail gave her… James Potter's book._

"A friend gave this to you, Hermione," said the witch. She waved her wand again and the book slid all the way to a spot on the table directly in front of Hermione, "A friend you met in the corridor nights ago. He gave it to you for a reason, and if you open it, you'll find out what it is."

She gestured to the book suggestively.

Hermione watched the book in front of her with frightened eyes. The name on the front looked especially tempting now. She had to open it. If it could help Harry…

Hermione reached up and carefully laid a hand on its cover. She slid her fingers to the spine, hesitated, and then pulled it open. She sat there, stunned, staring at what was inside.

There were no letters. No paper of any kind. Red velvet lined the cover and where the pages should have been was a soft, red scarf, surrounded by dried rose pedals and cloves of leaves. And on the scarf… was a necklace. An almost exact replica of the Hermione necklace Wormtail stole, but instead of an emerald pendant, there was a ruby one.

Hermione took the necklace in her hands wordlessly.

"Peter Pettigrew, the good lad, took from you a burden, Hermione. Do you recall the saying 'one who lives by first impressions dies with the wrong impression'?" Hermione shook her head, "Well, keep it in mind… Harry gave you an exact look-alike necklace to that one but with a major difference you cannot visually see."

"B-but," stuttered Hermione, not looking up from the necklace, "I can see the difference just fine. There's a different stone in this one. The one I had-"

"There is another difference, Hermione," interrupted the witch, "There is a very eminent difference that will mean the alteration of life and death of you and your friends. It is this necklace that is _the key."_

She waved her wand yet again and Hermione felt the necklace being pulled from her fingers. As though an invisible person was sliding the necklace around her neck, Hermione heard a snap as the little fastener magically clicked closed and it hung loosely from her neck. Hermione raised her hand and took the pendant protectively.

"Miss. Granger, please stand," said the strict witch on the other side of her. She looked slightly happier.

Hermione stood, nervous for what was to happen next.

"You can change your future, Hermione. This is your chance to make things right. You'll have your friends back… Mr. Weasley will be with you to fly back to Hogwarts… Mr. Black will journey the country freely, and… Harry will be with you again. Just bear in mind the things were told you," said the wizard, a look of satisfaction on his shadowed face. He watched her for a moment, smiling. "Someone's looking out for you, Miss. Granger. He's waiting for you. You must free him."

Hermione squinted at him… as much as she wanted to work out what he said, she noticed that his and the witches faces were fading. The table and chairs was starting to dissolve.

"Wha- wait! You've never answered my question!" cried Hermione urgently, _"Who are you?"_

Through the haze, they were watching Hermione, beaming. Even the witch with the glasses. It was the plump witch who answered-

"Just a memory, dear. A memory within the walls of Hogwarts. Good luck."

They dissolved with a whirlwind of black haze. Hermione clamped her eyes shut. She felt like she was being hurled down a drainpipe. She was being transported somewhere. Everything was black, then…

Her feet landed on solid ground. Eyes still shut, Hermione stood mutely for a moment, wondering where she could be. The infirmary. But there were no voices… no sounds of the Weasleys. Had she really gone back through time?  
            Hermione opened her eyes and found she was at the end of a corridor in Dryconderoga. It was night. Doors leading to classroom lined the dimly-lit corridor. With a startling shiver, Hermione realized that this was the corridor she found Marindernia the day of the first task.

What was so important about bringing her here? Hermione reached up and touched her necklace as if asking for security. Her eyes squinted down the corridor, which looked particularly eerie. But there, at the end of the row of closed doors, stood an open one. Light was pouring through the opening.

   Her stomach gave a funny jolt. She felt a maddening urge to go to that door. 

   Hermione would give anything she owned to have her wand back. If she really traveled back in time, would there be the same rules as in the time turner? If there was, she couldn't run to her dorm and fetch it – someone would see her and panic. But there wasn't a time turner and there was really now time to get it. Whatever she was looking for was nearby.

   She knew what she had to do. Bent back and being as quiet as possible, Hermione crept along the wall, listening for any faint sound, any footsteps or voices.

   She slowed down when she came nearer to the door – there were shadows inside, great, long shadows that floated across the door and part of the wall Hermione could see. But, surprisingly, fright did not dim Hermione's determined thoughts. She clenched her fists, narrowed her eyes and poked her head inside the room.

   The room was the way she last remembered it, only there was a lit lantern sitting on one of the desks. But, as she expected, Harry was standing in the middle of the room, wand out… and pointing at a terrified Ron and baffled Sirius. Hermione's heart leapt. They were lying on the ground, limbs snapped to their sides as if invisible cords bound them. They weren't sure what to do… all they could see was Harry. But they were alive.

   Hermione carefully bent down. Slowly and very quietly, she walked inside the room, her narrowed eyes on Harry as she went.

   "So if you're not Harry, who the hell are you?" Sirius barked angrily. He looked furious enough to get on his feet and curse his own godson, if he wasn't bound. "And what do you want with us?"

   Harry laughed cruelly. He waved his finger from side to side in a taunting way, a cruel and twisted sneer on his lips. He looked more like Voldemort than ever.

   "I don't think it wise to tell you when you're near death, Old Man. You'll find out when you're soul belongs to me," he told them cruelly, "It'll be amusing to complete this mission… Harry Potter will have nothing left."

   "How can you do this?" Ron roared angrily, looking equally furious as Sirius, "Just for revenge? And what do you mean by Harry having nothing left?"

   Hermione crouched next to a table and stood, looking between two stacks of books, waiting, biting her lip, thinking… _'They'll be OK, I'm going back to Hogwarts them. They'll be OK, I'm going back to Hogwarts with them…'_

   "I mean, Weasley, that Harry will have his greatest fear stare him in the face. His fear of fear will come to life," Harry hissed, "His fear of loosing the ones he loves… don't ask me what he sees in you three."

   A pause. Hermione heard Ron whine slightly.

   "What do you mean, 'three'? There's only two of us. Have you any ability to count?" shot Sirius.

   But Ron had understood. He understood the moment Harry had said it.

   "Not Hermione," he muttered softly, "Harry loves her. They… they l-love each other."

   Hermione frowned, inwardly sobbing hysterically. She kept repeating words in her head – _'They'll be OK, I'm going back to Hogwarts with them. And Harry will be fine… I love him'._

   "It's a clever strategy, isn't it? I haven't considered this for years, even though I have used this method before," he looked at Sirius, eyes glinting maliciously, "Years ago, when you were put to die in Azkaban, Black. Peter Pettigrew sent you there for life."

   He watched Sirius for a moment. It was as though he was trying to tell him something and his look would reveal what he meant. It was very odd, and Hermione didn't know what to make of it. Before she could dwell on this though any longer, Harry had taken his eyes off Sirius and started talking again.

"If I cannot kill Harry physically, I'll kill him emotionally. It'll make him suffer longer… until he dies. Which will not be long," he said softly, "He'll discover the three people be truly loves are dead… and he'll die himself. Piece by piece, fragment by fragment… until his soul dissolves."

   Ron was beside himself. Hermione could see that his face was as red as a cherry.

   "Y-you're mad! You're bloody mad! Why-_what did Harry ever do to you?"_

   Harry's face darkened. He circled around their forms, a grimace on his lips. He was thinking something… but what?

   "Potter has caused me grief," he hissed angrily, "More grief than you can ever imagine. For years… I've been alone, fighting for my life. Potter's been ruling this magical world of mine… I owned the world once. It was more than I could ask for," his face twisted furiously, his wand hand trembling slightly. "And he ruined it… years of my life, gone. Potter, the magical boy with the scar, conquered the Greatest Wizard of all time… Potter, the parentless boy with boundless lives. I'll be grateful when he feels my pain… the pain I've felt."

   His face was working feverishly. He roared in anger and without any effort, upturned one of the desks with one hand… Hermione jumped and clapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from screaming at the sound of the enormous bang. Harry raised his hands again, about to move to another desk, but stopped himself. He leaned on it instead, breathing heavily.

   Silence. Hermione waited with bated breath…

   Sirius spoke.

   "Harry was a child when he received that mark on his forehead… he could not hold a wand, could barely walk. He watched his Mother die before him. He did not watch his father die... they were separated. Harry reflected the spell put upon him without any effort… he had no recollection that it would harm the Dark Lord. But even now he is pleased that he did such a remarkable thing. Yes, he lives in grief at this very moment… he's seen so many die. But he and the rest of the world know that the Dark Lord got what was coming to him the night Harry's parents died."

   Harry's heavy breathing stopped. He seemed to be listening carefully now.

   Sirius continued, his voice raised. "The Dark Lord deserves every sort of punishment set upon him, as he has taken the lives of so many. Lily and James Potter, Bertha Jortkins, Cedric Diggory… they were innocent souls! And if you do not understand this any more than I do, you've lost you're touch…" he paused, "…Tom Riddle."

   That had done it.

   Ron looked horrified.

   Sirius looked satisfied.

   Harry remained still. Hermione bit her lip and clenched her fists… she could almost see the anger building inside him, the steam coming off him. His wand tightened in his hand.

   "You've found me out," he said quietly, "But no matter-" He slowly turned around, wand out, his face pale and full of triumph. "I'll just kill you now… like I've killed for years."

   A small gasp escaped Hermione. She got on her feet, getting ready to leap up… he aimed his wand… Ron and Sirius's faces twisted in horror… 

Harry's booming voice shattered all of Ron and Sirius's hopes for survival-

"Avada Kedav-"

Hermione's head was spinning. She had to do it. _Now!_  
            "STOP!"

Harry froze. He looked around behind him – a girl came around a table, frowning. She came to a halt before him, not looking at all pleased. He noticed his victims were gaping in astonishment at the girl. He lowered his wand and smiled.

"Granger, I presume," he said, a new kind of greasiness added to his voice, "I am to kill you later. What brings you here?"

Hermione didn't look at Ron or Sirius. She couldn't have distractions… she recalled what the witch told her. _'Hermione, dear, your past is endangered. Your presence is being threatened at this very moment, and if you don't do something, the life existence as you know it will vanish. We understand this… Hogwarts has been threatened with horrors for centuries…there will be a chance for you to change the future, dear. There is hope and your future can be corrected."_

"I'm here to stop you from killing innocent lives," she told him quietly. She was surprised with herself… venom dripped from every word she spoke with a bitterness she never knew she had. "You'll kill them, then you'll kill me… you're plan isn't so clever after all."

Harry watched her for a moment. He looked odd. Was that alarm in his eyes? Was he really so startled by her sudden appearance? Hermione weighed her chances – she was wandless, standing in front of a very capable enemy with a very strong sense of revenge. Two unhelpful people were at their feet, bound and most likely wandless as well. 

Harry's cruel laugh interrupted her thoughts.

"You silly Mudblood. What makes you, a little girl with no significant powers, stop the most powerful wizard in the world?" he hissed at her. He took a few steps towards her. "My plan will work. You and your friends _will die."_

Hermione didn't reply. The wise wizard's voice echoed through her mind-

_'We're speaking of the horrific times you and your friends are facing at this very moment. You've been through much, __Miss.__ Granger. You've witnessed a terrible thing and your friends are vanishing before you. Two are dead. One is better off claimed diseased. It is he who caused you this pain, is it?'_

"You're not Harry. You are most unlike Harry in every way. He does not kill, nor will he ever. Therefore… he will not be accused," Hermione told Harry coldly, "But he will live with a burden, there's no doubt about that. But I will not agree to hating him… he will not cause me pain for something he does not do."

Something trembled in Harry's eyes… he was anxious. He wanted her to leave… but Hermione had no intention to. If the wizard and witches she spoke to held any kind of knowledge, she had to fight this out. 

Harry kept advancing. Hermione shook her head slightly.

"Harry was right to say that you are foul," she said quietly. Her head was pointed down, her eyes looking at his pale face. "Do you even realize that you've tried to get Harry to fear your name for years… only to find he hasn't done so even after the deaths?"

He stopped. He looked curious. Hermione was reminded of Harry.

"What do you mean, you foolish girl?" he snapped at her, raising his wand and jabbing her in the side with it.

_'The mind is a curious thing, __Miss.__ Granger. It instructs us what to do, controls our every movement. Makes us believe things that are false. It is our mind's functions that make a mind so dangerous, so vulnerable… so open for visitors. But what if you had no control? No use of your mind?'_

"Harry pretends you don't even exist. He goes about his business unharmed… he does not think of you. He thinks of the victims you have killed… Cedric Diggory was his friend. He once had loving parents until you murdered them," Hermione's voice was started to rise. Ron and Sirius were watching with amazement. "In the graveyard, with your Death Eaters in the Third Task of the Tournament… he was more concerned for Cedric's life than his own! He has been taunted with death ever since his first year!"

   Harry stared at her. He looked almost confused,

   "And what do you think you're getting at?"

   Hermione's lips curled into a grimace.

"His anger has been building up for years… do you have any idea what lengths he'd go to get revenge?"

At that moment, at that very second Hermione was watching him, Harry's eyes flashed. He reminded her of Pettigrew, the night she encountered her… the night he gave her the book... the book with her necklace in it.

_'Peter Pettigrew, the good lad, took from you a burden, Hermione._ Harry gave you an exact look-alike necklace to that one but with a major difference you cannot visually see…There is a very eminent difference that will mean the alteration of life and death of you and your friends. It is this necklace that is the key.'__

Hermione reached up… and laid a hand on her neck. 

Harry's wand left her side and the pain vanished. He looked at her incredulously. "You foolish Mudblood! Do you think I'm really frightened by your words?" he laughed, a cold, high laugh... a very familiar laugh Hermione had heard before. "I know neither pain nor fear and you cannot possible instill it in me!"

"Really? Then I reckon the fear you demonstrated in the maze was unintentional? You were not frightened of the Potter's ghosts or the connection of your and Harry's wands?" said Hermione lightly. Harry's eyes widened a glimmer of red flickering past them. But he didn't deny.

The corner of Harry's mouth trembled a little before attempting to sneer. He raised his wand, and directed it over his shoulder… at Ron and Sirius. Hermione balled her fists.

"I don't need to listen to you. You're too late… they're dead," he said.

Hermione thought fast… she unknowingly reached up and took her necklace as if to comfort herself. It was a habit she still had from her other necklace. She got the distinct feeling that it was over… she couldn't help… perhaps there was a miracle. Certainly those witches she met would appear and stop Harry. But no… Harry's deep, cold voice interrupted her thoughts.

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

There was a burst of green light. Hermione's stomach dissolved... _'Oh no… please no. This can't happen. Help me…'_

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

   The light was too bright… she brought her hands to her face and blindly felt her way forwards. She heard Ron yelling, Sirius shouting… but was it from pain? She didn't know.

   CRACK!

   Hermione fell to the floor, landing painfully on her elbow. Her face grazed something… it struck her shoulder hard… but she felt strangely relieved. There were no voices… no shouting, no sounds of pain… no green light.

   For a moment Hermione thought she went unconscious. Her head was swimming… she felt dizzy. Or maybe she slipped back in the past with those witches and the wizard. As much as she'd like to believe this, Hermione couldn't understand how it could happen.

   But Harry's voice shattered her thoughts.

   "WHAT? IT CAN'T BE!"

   Hermione's eyes flew open. She gasped and sat up.

Harry was standing in the same spot… his wand was outstretched and a look of astonishment was on his pale face, for what was in front of him made Hermione's heart stop. 

Ron and Sirius were still alive… they were standing. But this and something else mystified Hermione… they were surrounded by a glimmering wall. It was like a transparent bubble, only it stretched from the two walls and the ground, protecting Ron and Sirius in a corner. It was some sort of force field.

   Harry was beside himself.

   "WHAT IS THIS MAGIC?" he shouted, turning around to Hermione, dark eyes darting all over the room in a panic.

   His eyes fell on a spot on the floor next to Hermione… a terrible hiss escaped him. 

   _"What is that?" he shouted._

   Hermione looked next to her and saw her necklace, the chain broken… whatever had struck her neck must have taken it off. She hurriedly threw herself forwards and gathered it up before Harry took it. She didn't know why he'd want it… it was strange how she wanted him to stay away…

   "Where did you-" started Harry. His face was starting to turn purple… he gripped his wand tighter. Ron and Sirius watched through the barrier. "How did you…"

   Hermione looked at her hand, where her necklace stretched across her palm, broken in two. Then she looked up at Harry… she couldn't understand. Was it this necklace that Harry was angry over? Then what was the importance of the witch giving it to her before sending her here?  Suddenly, it became clear to her… she was suddenly brought to something the witch had told her-

_ '…It is this necklace that is the key.'_

The necklace – Hermione's necklace – was the answer… it was going to get her, Ron and Sirius out of there. Somehow, one way or another, she finally realized that this necklace was different than that of the one Harry originally gave her… even as she looked, she saw the difference. The red stone glimmered at her teasingly, as if making her believe, even though there was no light near her…

"Is this what you want? You want this necklace and you'd kill lives to get it?" she said quietly, closing her fist around the pendant. Something in his eyes told him that she was wrong. Then… "Or you don't want this necklace. It frightens you."

His eyes gleamed. She fought the urge to smile…

"A wizard and two witches gave this to me. They said it was the key to let me and my friends live… I was afraid that they were telling rubbish, winding me up." She got to her feet and outstretched her hand. Harry took one, great step backwards. This time, Hermione never fought the urge to smile.

 "You know, if I never changed the future, you would have killed my friends and I would die soon after. Harry would die slowly and painfully. But I've changed the past, and I'll do the same to the future," she said, "You see, I'm not afraid of you. Not now, after Harry had taught me not to. So I can do what ever I want."

Harry's mouth open and closed several times. "You haven't the strength, nor do you know what that necklace can do."

Hermione took another step forwards and Harry stepped back again, this time almost tripping on the desk he upturned earlier. 

"I know that it can stop you and your pathetic rule. That's all I need to know," she let go of the necklace and let the pendant drop, but she still gripped the chains… it swung freely from her hand, glimmering. "If this necklace can stop my friends from dieing, it can certainly kill you."

_'You can change your future, Hermione. This is your chance to make things right. You'll have your friends back… Mr. Weasley will be with you to fly back to Hogwarts… Mr. Black will journey the country freely, and… Harry will be with you again. Just bear in mind the things were told you... someone's looking out for you, Miss. Granger. He's waiting for you. You must free him.'_

One look of Harry's horrified face told her that she had to do it.

"This is where I alter the future and save the past," she said.

Then she did what she thought would work. Concentrating hard, she shut her eyes… _'I'm finished here… please rid this man of this world and bring me back to the present.'_

It happened so fast after that. Behind her closed eyes, red light flashed past her eyelids… she heard Harry screaming – Voldemort shrieking in pain. She was whirling very fast… her eyes were blaring… her mind was spinning. She realized that this was very familiar.

And it all stopped. She was aware that her hand was still holding the necklace… it was cutting her skin with the grip she had on it. Now screaming, no light, no sound of any kind… she opened her eyes.

She was back. At the table in front of her sat the wizard and the witches, the book still sitting where Hermione had left it. They were smiling at her…

"You're very clever for your age, Miss. Granger," said the wizard, "Those were some very quick tactics you used in the classroom."

It took a moment for Hermione to retrace her steps. Had she gone back in time again?

"Yes, but… how did you know?"

"We were watching, dear," said the plump witch, "Every moment of it. I must say, it was quite a show! And you really did use your mind well, dear, you must be so proud of yourself."

Hermione gaped for a moment, speechless. What had just happened?  
            "We possess powers strong enough to see into the future, Miss. Granger," said the strict witch. She was smiling. "We needed to be precise that you understood what we told you earlier."  
            Hermione nodded, but still didn't understand how they did it. She realized that she still didn't know who these people were...

"But… you must be very powerful to see into the future, it's almost impossible! What I mean to say is… why, er, how can you-" she broke off. In all the books she read, seeing into the future alone – witnessing absolutely everything – was nearly impossible; only the strongest magical beings could perform such magic, and the only people who could do it died centuries ago…

   "We are the only people who can do such magic, Miss. Granger. In your past, in our present and future, we have existed to build and assemble Hogwarts in its beauty today. We constructed the houses, the lessons, the students…"

   Hermione finally understood, but the night was so full of unbelievable surprises that she merely nodded.

   "I don't need to hint at it, Hermione," said the plump witch more seriously, "I am Helga Hufflepuff of the Hufflepuff house. This," she motioned to the witch across from her, who smiled, "is Rowena Ravenclaw-"

   "And I am Godric Gryffindor," said the wizard fondly, "Founder of your house, Gryffindor. And I do hope you forgive Salazar for not joining us. After all, you were to rid his last remaining descendant of Slytherin from his past… you cannot blame him for being a tad, er… _aggravated._"

   They waited for her to say something, but she couldn't. 

   "And now that we have introduced ourselves, we must leave," said Rowena Ravenclaw, "But I daresay if you have some unanswered questions, our dear friend Albus Dumbledore will not hesitate to assist you," she sighed and smiled, "Doesn't miss a thing, the old man."

   But Hermione didn't want them to leave. She had just somehow gotten rid of Voldemort on her own… but what about Ron and Sirius? What about Harry?

   "Your dear friends will be waiting for you when you return to the castle," stated Helga Hufflepuff as if she knew exactly what she was thinking, "And Harry… well, Harry has and always will be by your side."

   It was just what she wanted to hear. Hermione felt a slight tugging on the corners of her lips as she finally smiled, this time convincingly… a single tear leaked from her eyes and grazed lightly down her cheek.

   "And take this book," said Rowena, motioning to James Potter's book. Hermione took it and held it tightly to her chest. "I would think Harry would like a glimpse of it. You can keep the necklace inside it."

   Hermione whipped her eyes with the back of her hand, sniffed and said in a muffled voice, "How can I ever thank you?"

   Godric simply laughed, his jolly cheeks turning red in his happiness.

   "Just promise us that you'll remain by Harry's side and always forgive and forget, even if the unbelievable forces you to believe. Goodbye, Hermione."

   The room dissolved in a wave of black colour… the three house founders vanished. Hermione clutched the necklace and the book protectively to her, shutting her eyes and waiting for the whirlwind of shadows to end. She was going back… back to the present.

**…~'*'~…**

**A/N: Well, I'm very near the end, and I've hit about 300 reviews! Gosh, I love you people. You're just great!**

Enough with the sentimentalism… I may sound cheery, but apart from this very moment, I feel like I've been trampled by a cart-full of Hippogriffs. Ever had a cold and a fever all at once? Well, I don't recommend it. So right now, all I'm gonna say is that **this story is nearly finished and** **do not count on a sequel.** I'm writing another story, but I haven't even put a dent in it. More on that in the next chapter…


	23. The Two Marauders

_Helms_deep2234: I'm very sorry for not updating sooner._

_Musical: *grins* Thanks so much for your comments! I really, really appreciate it!_

_Takeda Lee: Thanks for your comments_

_Readstoomuchonff.net: I can't wait for Book #5 either. Well, there's 77 days left, so it's not all that bad ^_^_

_Ed: Your comment really bothers me… I **do not rip off any names of animals, places or characters from any other book other than Harry Potter itself. I read the C.S Lewis books when I was very, very young. Do you really expect me to remember their names? As an author on FF.net, people like you who assume these things are very unnecessary and unbelievable. **_

_CrankyWonderJoe__: No, thank __you._

_Naomi Silverwolf: Thanks a bunch!_

_HermioneandHarry4ever: Portkey.org, huh? I'm SO joining. Thanks a bunch!_

**…~'*'~…**

The whirlwind of colour dissolved. The three house founders vanished once again and the blackness was gone. Book and necklace clutched firmly in her hands, Hermione felt her feet touch the ground. She opened her eyes…****

            She was in the Matron's office in the Infirmary. Hermione stood next to a desk with empty jars and measuring scales and an open copy of _Witches Weekly sitting on it. Charts of magical remedies and medicines were tacked up on the walls. The beams of sunlight coming from a skylight high above Hermione's head stretched across the small, cluttered room, over the mangled rug lying on the floor to the door that led to the hospital beds. It made the gold doorknob and tiny keyhole sparkle. _

            With a startling jolt, Hermione realized that there were voices coming from behind the door.

            "_You!_ Get back into bed, you're in no fit to lolly gaggle around in your pajamas! And mark my word, if I ever catch you out of it again-"

            There was a splutter and a trembling sigh as if the person had lost their ability to speak in their anger. Hermione knew the voice right away. It was the Matron, talking to someone in the hospital beds, and she did not sound happy. Hermione saw her silhouette cross the small, glass window in the door, which was covered with a curtain on the other side.

            Just as Hermione was debating whether to run after her or not, she heard another voice that made her heart stop.

            "But I have to get up! Dumbledore said that I could! You can't go against his word, he's my headmaster!"

            "He may be, but I am in charge of my patients!"

            "But I have to find my friends!"

            Hermione put a hand to her mouth, astonished that it was Ron who was speaking. He was alive… it had worked.

            Not considering the shock she'd cause with the fact that there was no way of knowing how Hermione got into the matron's office without anyone seeing her, Hermione pushed aside her amazement and bolted for the doorknob. With a short struggle, she threw open the door.

            Ron, who was sitting up in a bed, a fistful of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans clutched tightly in his hands and getting ready to chuck the lot at the door, where the Matron left, looked at her. His mouth fell open. The beans were released and scattered all over his bed spread.

            Hermione grinned from ear to ear.

            "Ron!" she cried, and before she knew what she was doing, she leapt forwards and enveloped him into a tight hug. But Ron didn't hug back; Hermione realized that he felt like stone. Did she really shock him that much?

            "Ron, what's wrong with you?" Hermione shrieked gleefully, releasing his shoulders, "I have so much to tell you! I met Pettigrew in the corridors and he gave me this book that belonged to Harry's father and he helped me somehow, by taking the necklace Harry gave me and giving me a new one and I went the classroom where I found Marindernia and-" she paused and stared at Ron. He was still watching her, face pale and mouth open. She smiled and closed it for him.

            "Ron, do say something… I've seen you dead once and I don't need you doing an impression of it," she told him jokingly.

            It was like Ron snapped back to reality. He blinked, shook his head and looked at Hermione again. Raising his hand, he carefully prodded at her face, as if she was a wax dummy.

            "Bloody hell! You're so lifelike. You ramble just like her…" he said distractively.

            Hermione sighed in exasperation and swatted his hand away.

            "I am Hermione, you idiot! And who are you to say that I ramble, Ron Weasley? I certainly don't need that right now!" she shouted at him. He blinked.

            "O-o-okay… _Hermione,_" said Ron quietly, "It's good to say your name again. And I can't believe you're here… everyone thought you were dead for days." He distantly looked around for something to say. His mouth opened and closed several times before he did. "Dumbledore said you went back in time and saved my life. Is that true?"

            Hermione looked away. She didn't want to admit it to him… Ron was stuck here, in the infirmary, while she fought Voldemort. She couldn't tell him that, so instead, she avoided his question and searched around for something else to say. 

            "Where is Sirius? Did he make it all right?" she asked him.

            Ron's face fell and he looked defeated for a moment. But then he smiled.

            "He's in Siamoen's office right now. When he found out he saved his life-" he said that pointedly, the grin on his face growing wider, "-he hid out there. Siamoen and Dumbledore's at the Ministry, working to get Harry back, so he's safe."

            Hermione's heart sank. In her moment of bliss in finding Ron alive, she had forgotten about Harry and that she had brandished him in the past… would he still be here?

            "W-where is he?" she asked Ron quietly, almost dreading the answer. Ron lowered his head.

            "Azkaban."

            The colour drained from Hermione's face.

            _"What?"_

            "Fudge brought him there this morning when Dumbledore told him that it was a mistake. I heard him talking about finding a place for him in there," replied Ron heavily, "Fudge doesn't believe that Harry's innocent..."

            Hermione scowled, her hate for the Minister rising.

            "So… what are we going to do?" she asked Ron. He ran his fingers through his hair, a look of concentration on his face.

            "We could… we could owl the Ministry, tell them they've got it wrong. Or we can go to Dumbledore. Maybe he could do something."

            Hermione sighed heavily, fighting tears, and leaned against the bed frame, still folding her arms. He didn't understand at all. The Ministry was not going to yield their plans for Harry on account of a letter two students sent them. Ever since last year, Fudge thought Harry was mad. He thought that Harry's scar was affecting his behavior and that the twinges on his forehead referred to the insanity that was creeping up on him. Harry, as well, loathed him all the same. So with Fudge as the Minister, the Ministry were not about to give Harry up easily.  
            Hermione was starting to think that her going back in time didn't help anything.

            "I think you should go see Sirius, Hermione, he might want to see you. He wanted to go find you, but… you know," said Ron, "I'll get out of here somehow. The Matron here has got it in for me." He grimaced.

            Hermione nodded. Certainly seeing Sirius would assure her. So biding Ron a quick goodbye, she left the infirmary and hurried down the corridor to Siamoen's office.

            Hermione realized that the book, James Potter's book, was still tucked under her arm. She forgot she had it, and didn't show it to Ron. But Sirius would like to see it. James was his best friend. She quickened her pace and hurried across the Grand Hall, which was empty, and down winding passageway that led to a small room. She rushed up the dark, unlit corridor and slowed down when she saw the narrow door, which stood slightly ajar.

She pushed open the door, not bothering to knock.

She had only once been in Siamoen's office the day Dumbledore showed her an article from the Daily Prophet, and told her that she could see Harry in the infirmary when she was attacked. Form then and now, the office hadn't changed at all.

She looked around the green-covered room, panting, clutching the book to her chest. The fire was lit behind the headmaster's desk, and behind that desk was Sirius, sitting in the chair. He looked up at her, and his jaw dropped.

            "Hermione?" he said roughly.

            Hermione walked up to him, a smile tugging at her lips… but it faded almost at once when the flickering light from the fire illuminated Sirius's face. He looked exhausted; his face was pale and gaunt and his eyes were sunken and dark. He had worry lines on his face, making him look like he aged fifty years from the time Hermione had seen him last. But his eyes somehow lit up when he saw her.

            "Good lord Hermione, I thought you were someone else!" he exclaimed, getting up from his seat. He hurried out from behind the desk and hugged Hermione, muttering to himself.

            "I can't tell you how long I've been waiting. I was in the Infirmary with your friend Ron for a while, but the Matron came round. But Dumbledore-" he let go of her, held her at arms length… and looked at the book she was holding. His face, if possible, went whiter then before.

            Hermione smiled.

            "I thought you might like this," she said, holding out the book to him.

            He took it, turning it wondrously in his hands, mouth slightly open. Hermione thought she could dimly see his old, worn happiness that he only felt in his school days flash by in his sunken face.

            "Hermione… where did you get this?" he asked her quietly.

            "Wormtail gave it to me, originally. But after I lost it at the Infirmary…" she hesitated, "Helga Hufflepuff gave returned it. Her, Godric and Rowena."

            He didn't look surprised. He certainly knew all about what Hermione had did, who she met. Dumbledore probably told him everything.

            "I was afraid of that. You had to risk your own life to save mine and Ron's, didn't you? Using the necklace?" said Sirius, shaking his head roughly and looking at Hermione, "It was difficult, wasn't it?

            "Yes, but it was worth it… saving the people Harry loves most," said Hermione softly.

            Sirius's eyes softened and he frowned. Hermione bit her lip.

            "Ron told you he was in Azkaban, didn't he?" Hermione nodded, "Yes, well, Dumbledore's doing all he can to get him out, Siamoen as well. He's on his side, and with the way Fudge is behaving…" he clenched and unclenched his pale hands, "Well, let's just say he's… digging himself a grave. He was no evidence, nothing to go by. The only supporter he's swayed is Lucius Malfoy, and he's only in it for the pleasure of seeing Harry miserable."

            Hermione shut her eyes tightly for a moment, clearing her head. Hatred for Mr. Malfoy flooded her blood.

            "So that means… Harry can't possibly be freed? I mean, they can't put him down for life imprisonment as long as Dumbledore and Siamoen don't agree with it, can they?" Hermione asked him hopefully.

            Sirius watched her, a pained expression on his face. He shook his head, opened his mouth to say something, but-

            BANG!

            The door burst open. Hermione spun around and felt Sirius fall to the ground in a heap behind Siamoen's desk, looking panic stricken. If anyone found out he was there…

            But it was Siamoen, looking out of breath but excited all the same. Hermione's mouth fell open as he looked around the room and spotted Hermione. He squealed and dashed towards her.

            "Miss. G-Granger! You must come w-with me, to the hall at o-once! Y-you and… you and-" he cut short, breathing hard. Hermione raised her eyebrows, apparently astonished, "-you and Mr. Black!"

            "How d'you know about Sirius?" Hermione demanded at once.

            But Sirius pushed himself up and carefully looked at Siamoen, whose face lit up.

            "It's done... Fudge and Lucius and the Aurors are in the Hall. You must_ come and speak to them _at once!"_ he stuttered to Sirius._

            Hermione looked at Sirius. He watched Siamoen for a long moment, then nodded. He seized Siamoen's arm and led him to his chair.

            "I'll go. You stay here and make sure if Harry shows…" he trailed off and nodded suggestively. Then glanced at Hermione and motioned his hand to the other chair. Hermione smiled and shook her head almost at once, taking a few steps backwards.

            "Oh no, I'm coming with you," she told him strictly, "I want to ask Fudge a few questions, on Harry's behalf and mine."

            Sirius's shoulders fell. His mouth gapped wordlessly for a few moments before he groaned and muttered an agitated 'all right'.

            They left the office, sticking close to the walls and slinking their way to the hall by the means of the shadows made by pillars and statues that where along the corridors. Hermione didn't want to think of what would happen if Sirius was spotted by a student. 

            It was a very slow progress, but they made it to the owlry. Hermione peered around the corner, into the hall, and saw nothing.

            "What will you do if you're spotted?" Hermione asked Sirius nervously as they flattened themselves against the wall.

            "We'll find out, wont we?" said Sirius.

            He stepped out of the shadows and Hermione anxiously followed.

            They walked inside the hall.

            About a dozen wizards and witches dressed in Ministry robes stood at the end of the enormous hall, talking in very loud voices and amid it all, various students from all three schools sat curiously at the school tables. Hermione's eyes widened; it must be about the time the feast would start.

            Sirius led the way to the front of the hall, Hermione closely following. Whispers and buzzing started at once from all sides, like little hissing fires; a few girls pointed at Hermione. How many people knew about what Hermione had done? Some of the boys gasped and pointed at Sirius; it was a loud scream from a young Norkdernian girl that made the Ministry wizards look around. One of them, Hermione recognized, was Lucius Malfoy.

            "Ah, here's the assassin!" said Fudge, stepping out from the crowd of wizards, a look of triumph on his red face, "Here's the very man who murdered those people! Ah, didn't I tell you? He'd fall right into our hands."

            The Ministry wizards on either side of Fudge looked apprehensive and doubtful, and when Sirius stopped in front of them, looking quite annoyed, a few of them silently stepped back, without Fudge noticing. Hermione stood nervously and watched a few paces behind Sirius.

            "Fudge, you don't know what you're doing. You're wrong," said Sirius loudly, "I did not commit those murders. Peter Pettigrew is still alive; he faked his own death and escaped!"

            Fudge looked at him as though he was mad, but Mr. Malfoy glared, a small sneer on his thin, white lips. A thought struck Hermione: if Mr. Malfoy could say that he despised the Potters, could he have hated James and Lily Potter in school? He could not glare at Sirius so dangerously if he hadn't met the fabulous duo, Sirius and James. He would take pride in knowing that James was dead and Sirius felt like his brother had gone. The thought was horrible.

            "Great wizards, Black. What happened to you?" said Mr. Malfoy, still with that hideous sneer on his face, "Had a run-in with a few Dementors, or are you just... on the run?"

            Nearly all the Ministry wizards laughed.

            "And this must be the famous girl that was attacked by that boy," said Mr. Malfoy, looking over Sirius's shoulder.

            It took a moment for Hermione to realize that he was indicating her. His cold, grey eyes were narrowed in her direction and Hermione felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. Her encounter with him in the Infirmary was still deep in her mind.

            "It's a shame Potter felt the desire to attack one of his closest friends. I must say, you did look rather bloodied up when we found you, Miss… _Granger_," said Mr. Malfoy softly, "We don't want you dieing in the hands of evil, do we?"

            Anger coursed through Hermione's veins. It was a well-known fact that the Malfoy family were true purebloods at heart and thought anything lesser were complete inferior… Muggleborns, like Hermione herself. She knew that one of the reasons Harry hated this man so much was his loathsome comments to Muggle borns. He thought nobody could do anything about it.

            Hermione clenched and unclenched her fists, and said, quite angrily, "You'd love that, wouldn't you, Mr. Malfoy? You'd like nothing better than to see a Muggleborn die right in front of you," she took a brave step forwards, towards the face that was baring its teeth, "You probably killed a Muggleborn before, _Mr. Malfoy."_

            She spat his name in disgust. Mr. Malfoy looked livid. The other looked surprised… Sirius, mouth slightly open, was about to speak until-

            "STOP!"

            The door of the hall burst open. Everyone, the Ministry and the students trembling at the school tables, turned to look at who had barged in. Hermione was bewildered for a moment, because Dumbledore and Siamoen walked inside, looking anxious.

            They saw them standing at the end of the hall.

            "Wait a moment, Cornelius," called Dumbledore. He started walked down the long, house tables with a pace no old man could possibly have. Siamoen shut the hall door and hurried over to the tables, where several students started to shout his name. He started telling them explanations at once.

            It seemed that Fudge didn't want Dumbledore to interrupt. Face pale, he turned around and started talking quietly to the wizards behind him.

            "Cornelius Fudge!" said Dumbledore loudly. He came to a halt next to Hermione, not breathing hard from his run but looking very solemn. Sirius stepped to the right, seized Hermione's wrist and pulled her to the side.

            But Fudge was still talking in a rush. Instead, Mr. Malfoy spoke to Dumbledore.

            "Forgive me for saying so, Dumbledore, but you have no scores to settle with the Ministry. You are forgetting that this is official business-"

            "And you, Lucius, are forgetting your place in the Ministry, which does not concern matters such as this," said Dumbledore calmly, but bitterly all the same.

            Mr. Malfoy couldn't answer. Dumbledore was much too important to argue with… he stepped aside, very reluctantly.

            Finally, Fudge turned around when he realized, with much annoyance, that Dumbledore was waiting impatiently behind him.

            "Ah, Albus, old Chap!" he said, replacing his tight-lipped scowl with a most unconvincing grin, "What a surprise to see you here… in this school…"

            Hermione had seen Dumbledore angry, but not this angry. There was an absence of the familiar twinkle in his eyes, which were cold. His was tapping his foot and his arms were folding. He looked very unforgiving.

            "Slaton and I were working tirelessly at the Ministry with evidence of this ridiculous quarrel for a man who wasn't there!" he said sharply, and Hermione winced at the coldness in his voice, "Tell me, why is that?"

            Fudge, who was looking over his shoulder ever since Dumbledore arrived, turned around completely, twisting his hands and licking his lips nervously without realizing it.

            "Well, you see, Albus-"

            "There is no excuse, Cornelius!" interrupted Dumbledore, "You will be dealt with and you will not be considered a worthy Minister around here any longer!" he stared at Fudge, who was wincing, with fury for a very long moment. Then, with his gaze softening, he looked over his shoulder and called "Mr. Pettigrew, if you please."

            Hermione blinked and looked at the hall doors. So did everyone else. The students stopped whispering to Siamoen and looked at the other end of the enormous room in curiosity and even the Ministry wizards went very quiet. Sirius took a small step forwards, looking hopeful.

            The doors of the hall creaked open very slowly, like the wind outside opened the doors itself.

           Hermione's heart stopped.

A few people screamed.

           Peter Pettigrew, nervous and pale, walked inside and shut the door behind him. He looked around the hall, at all the astonished faces around him, and started to approach the Ministry wizards at the front of the hall.

           Fudge looked dumbfounded. Mr. Malfoy, on the other hand, looked furious.

           "Listen here, Dumbledore! You can't bring him in here! The man's forbidden! He's-"

           "-dead?" finished Dumbledore thoughtfully, the familiar glint in his blue eyes returning, "As you can see, Lucius, It is not so."

           Peter Pettigrew stopped behind Dumbledore. He took one frightened look at Hermione, then Sirius and dropped his head as if he noticed all the eyes in his direction.

           "He's not him!" said Fudge distractedly, "It can't be..."

           "Indeed it is him and I will tell you the entire story if you will listen," said Dumbledore.

            Personally, Hermione wanted to hear what was going on. She knew that Pettigrew was alive for a few years. But why is he walking in here, amid the Ministry and why did Dumbledore think this is wise?

            Nobody answered Dumbledore's question, so he started, with everyone in the hall listening.

           "There are ways, as you all know, how assume responsibility of the human mind. You can dominate their body and determine their actions, yet only with an immensely large amount of magical power and strength. And as you know, it is supposed that Mr. Potter attacked Miss. Granger about a few weeks ago, the time in which she spent recovering in the hospital wing. But with a realization, which Miss. Granger herself has experienced, there has been some unanswered questions solved. You see, it wasn't Harry who attempted to kill those people… it was Lord Voldemort."

            He got no reaction, mainly because this assumption must have sounded ridiculous if they didn't know what Hermione knew. Fudge opened his mouth to speak, but found that he had nothing to say.

           "What do you mean, 'attempted to kill those people'?" asked Mr. Malfoy coldly, "You mean to say, they were… _resurrected?"_

           "In a way, Lucius. Just a little over an hour ago, Miss. Granger fought Voldemort, while he was managing Mr. Potter's body, ruling his mind and causing him to inflict this damage," Hermione felt dozens of eyes flicker to her momentarily, then back to Dumbledore. "Miss. Granger went back in time, a few moments before Mr. Potter would kill two others, and defeated him… in the matter of a few watchful eyes."

          "Watchful eyes… what are you talking about, Dumbledore?" spat Mr. Malfoy angrily, "Why do you persist with this ridiculous string of lies?"

           Dumbledore ignored him. He looked over at Hermione.

           "Do you have the necklace?" he asked her.

           Bewildered, Hermione nodded, reached up and pulled it out of the neck of her robes, and as she did, she unmistakably heard Mr. Malfoy gasp. The other wizards weren't sure what to do.

           "Ah, you guessed right, Lucius," said Dumbledore, smiling, "Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw were allies to Miss. Granger. They gave her this necklace, and in it holds Godric's most powerful magic. Before he died, he concealed it inside this necklace and hid it from the magical world. But, if truth be told, Salazar Slytherin got his hands on it, replicated it to an almost exact original and stored his most dark powers inside it. You know the story from here on, Lucius."

           "I-I gave Godric's necklace to her," said Pettigrew, finally speaking but with a definite tremor in his squeaky voice. He was pointing at Hermione with a quivering finger. "Harry Potter gave her Salazar's necklace as a gift, and h-he didn't know w-what it'd do. So I took it from her when she was sleeping and gave her Godric's necklace."

           "So there you have it. Mr. Potter is innocent," said Dumbledore as he looked at Sirius then back to Fudge, "and this man is obviously above suspicion."

           Hermione was staring at Mr. Malfoy. She tucked away her necklace, and at once, he realized what they were talking about. It was like he was in a trance. But as he looked around at all the wizards surrounding him, his face, thought pale and tight, went more than slightly pink.

          "Is that so? He's innocent?" he barked angrily, looking at Sirius with utter loathing, "Then how did all those people die? All those people in the streets years ago, Muggles and wizards… he killed them with a single curse!"

          But then Hermione understood. She couldn't believe that she hadn't thought of it before. Wormtail was innocent. Completely innocent, just like Sirius. He hadn't killed anyone before... not even Cedric, because someone else had done that. The small, balding man who trembled with every movement never wanted to kill anyone and never will. 

          It was so unbelievably surprising, but true.

          "I understand it now!" Hermione burst out in a rush of words, making the wizards around her look at her in surprise, "When I was sent to the classroom where Ron and Sirius were going to be killed, I heard Harry, er, Voldemort talk to them about using this method before… taking control of people's minds and using them for his own purposes. He said that Peter had sent Sirius to Azkaban."

          "She's right," said Sirius at once.

          "So what if he was telling the truth? What if he took over Peter's mind and ordered him to kill those people, making it look like Sirius had done it?"

          Real, authentic realization dawned on the each Ministry wizard's faces. Hermione bit her lip, thinking hard, racking her brain in thought, with Dumbledore smiling at her encouragingly.

          "So it was Voldemort who actually killed those people, transformed into a rat and escaped before the Ministry had captured Sirius. It has to be true," said Hermione, finding even her own thoughts surprising.

          Fudge looked like he was stunned with a curse, but Malfoy was seething with anger.        

          "You silly girl!" he snapped irately, "What rubbish! What unbelievable nonsense! Do you really expect the Ministry to believe this? We have evidence that Black had killed Pettigrew! This man," he rounded on Peter, who squealed and stumbled backwards, _"is a fraud!"_

          Amid everything, Dumbledore chuckled lightly.                                                                                                           

          "Really, Lucius. Are you referring to the single largest piece of Pettigrew that was found on the scene, where he was supposedly slaughtered? Well, I'm afraid that too was a mistake. It seemed very likely that Voldemort, controlling Peter, had cut his own finger off as support of a massacre. He did that then fled from the streets."

          "It's true," Peter spoke up, "He cut it off himself." He rolled up his sleeve and revealed his hand, with the absence of one finger. "I've lived with it f-for years."

           Fudge, looking quite shocked and white, nodded as though trying to convince himself that all this was true. He swallowed, nodded yet again and said, "Well… that was certainly unexpected. But don't think you'll be getting off so easily, Peter. You'll be sentenced to thirty days in Azkaban."

          Hermione looked over at Pettigrew and watched the colour, or what was remaining of it, drain from his face. He replied a quiet approval, and for a moment, Hermione almost felt genuinely sorry for him. But then she remembered that his punishment could be worse and that he deserved it; he had been working for Voldemort, even if it was against his will, for years.

          "But Sir!" started Mr. Malfoy. He wasn't too keen on letting Peter off so easily. "Is that it? He's worked with You-Know-Who for years!"

          "Lucius, I think that's the point of the thirty days in prison," stated Dumbledore simply, smiling at him.

          There was a tense moment in which Mr. Malfoy glared at Dumbledore. It was clear that he didn't think much of Dumbledore as headmaster of Hogwarts. With a disgusted look and a furious snarl, he turned on his heels and stormed down the row of tables out of the hall. A few of the wizards followed him but Fudge didn't.

           "Terribly sorry about this all, Dumbledore. It's just difficult to keep on top of things, you know," he said, "Well, I've got to run!"

           He started down the tables after Mr. Malfoy. When he was out of earshot, Dumbledore shook his head forlornly and said, quite annoyed, "There's not hope… that man is a dolt."

           Hermione would have laughed, but couldn't. Dumbledore turned to her and Sirius, looking very somber. Siamoen came up behind him, looking curious.

           "I will go to Mr. Siamoen's office to owl Azkaban… we need to get this sorted out," said Dumbledore, "Sirius, I suggest you follow me."

           Then Siamoen piped in, looking anxious. "Albus, will the boy come back? He's our third champion!"

But he didn't answer. He, Sirius and Siamone left down a corridor, all talking very fast, leaving Hermione in the hall alone. But not for long.

            Ron, dressed in new robes, came down the staircase at a run. Stopping, he noticed Hermione standing there. He caught a last glimpse of the two Professors and Sirius leaving through a corridor and his face fell.

           "Dumbledore won't leave this alone, Hermione. Sirius won't let him," he said softly. He stopped behind her, frowning.

           Hermione turned. Tears were threatening to leak from her eyes, and everyone in the hall was watching. She sighed unevenly and shook her head.

           "I'm… not so sure."

           Hermione was suddenly aware of how exhausted she was. Her limbs ached tremendously... the tears she was holding finally let loose.

           "I'm n-not so sure that Harry will come back, Ron."

           Ron sniffed and wrapped an arm around his friend. With a glance at all the staring eyes, he steered her our of the hall and up the staircase, on the way to the common room. He was suddenly struck with a thought… what if Hermione was to stay like this? He doubted if Harry could come back so easily… not with Lucius Malfoy around. And then he thought…_If only Harry was here._

**…~'*'~…**

A/N: I'm terribly sorry about not posting his earlier. I've been very busy… I won't bore with you the details. Anyways, ever heard of 'short but sweet'? Well, this chapter was short and sad. But it gets better! Yeah! So hang in there!

Remember when I'd tell you more about my new story? Yes, well, its part of a Series called 'The Love and Deception Series'. The first part of it is a fic called 'Road to Reality', whish I will be posting soon after I've finished Demontarity. Need more info?

_          It's based on the life of Hermione after Hogwarts. She works with Ron at the Ministry and fights Death Eaters every few nights. And it has a lot of racism towards Muggles because they're breaking into the Magical world. Hermione, naturally, gets treated badly (for example, she wasn't permitted to learn how to apparate). There are a few new characters and, of course, originals, like Draco Malfoy, Neville and Charlie Weasley._

_        All I can tell you is that it's very unpredictable and quite sad in the beginning. It's much more serious than Demontarity, with a few funny moments, but all of it is very well-written and brilliant. This is something I never dreamed I'd be able to write. By the way, throughout it, there is H/H... but there's a catch._

That's all… **I need comments on this story. Just give a few in a review.** Thank you. 


	24. The Two Hearts and Leaving Dryconderoga

_SAT4EVER: I'm glad you loved it!_

_Merlins__-Apprentice: I'm flattered that you stayed up to read this! *sniffs* I'm also glad that you like fluff… you'll see why when you're in the middle of this chapter ^_^_

_malu__: Ron is so worried about Hermione because they're friends. He thinks she'll fall apart because he knows how close she is to Harry. Awwwwww… how sweet, no? Harry is sweeter ^_^_

That's all my reviewers since last chapter. Pretty skimpy.

**…~'*'~…**

            It was the last day at Dryconderoga. The enormous dragon and the hundreds of stagecoaches were brought to the front of the castle. Hagrid had them all chained up and ready. Most Nockdernia student's luggage littered the entrance hall where some students and professors magiced them onto large trolleys and brought them onto the grounds. The Dryconderoga students roamed the grounds with long faces, spending the spare time they had to talk to the students they met in the few months.

            Professor Dumbledore sighed heavily and turned back to business, away from the dreary hustle and bustle from the entrance to the hall. His dull eyes looked lifeless with his now evidently aging face. He slowly walked forwards and settled two ancient hands on the nearest chairs, leaning forwards.

            "We have no way of contacting Azkaban," he said calmly but somberly, "The Ministry have withdrawn from this and will not have any part of Mr. Potter's release."

            Professor Snape, who sat in and armchair in the corner, couldn't look happier. Professors McGonagall and Kohl were just some of the professors in the room who looked outraged.

            "Albus, the boy is still young! It's been a week and… don't you think we should go over there personally?" she said strictly, looking severely startled. But the old man shook his head.

            "There's not much we can do but wait."

            The entire room went quiet. Snape's curling lip was barely noticeable. Nothing was said in a while until Dumbledore spoke again, finding a perfect place in their meeting to tell them one of the things he wanted them to know before leaving.

            "Mr. Silversmith, as you know, will not be returning for another term at Hogwarts," he said. Snape looked up with interest. "He was hired by me as a Defense Against the Dark Arts expect, but also, he was to be at Hogwarts to look after Harry."

            Professor McGonagall looked confused. Looking sternly over her spectacles, she burst into questions at once.

            "What do you mean, look after Potter? Look after Potter because of-" she paused, "Because of You-Know-Who?"

            Dumbledore nodded. He pulled out the chair he had his hands upon and gingerly sat down, looking weary. "Slaton worked at the Ministry three years ago as an assistant for the Minister, until he was dismissed from the position. He owled me at the beginning of the year, asking for work. So I employed him, and he agreed to it."

            "And was he… aware of the consequences?" said Snape acidly but with an air of coolness, "He knew what he'd get himself into, following Potter and his friends?" Dumbledore nodded, pressing his fingers together. "The man nearly killed himself, going after You-Know-Who that night Potter foolishly left his dorm to wander! Did he really realize what he'd get himself into?"

            The old man looked at the professor very meaningfully. "Serverus, I told you I had this conversation with Lucius. And I'm certain you have chatted with him recently."

            Professor McGonagall looked behind her at Snape, who wouldn't look back. He was watching Dumbledore.

            "Mr. Potter and Miss Granger left their dorm for a good reason. They were planning on inspecting the empty classroom in with Marindernia was found."        Professor Kohl blinked. "Mr. Potter simply heard Voldemort and left the room right away. Clearly, they met Slaton on the way back, as they have been very suspicious of the man."

            "And the room, the classroom where Marindernia was found?" questioned Professor Kohl, anxiously.

            Dumbledore sighed again. "I can only assume the worst, and that is with the explanation of Voldemort simply cursing the classroom for his own purposes. As you know, he plans ahead. He always plans ahead."

            "As he's done this time," murmured Snape distractively, "and I think he's succeeded."

            The room went quiet again, and this time, nobody had anything to add right away. It was simply too much to realize, too much to make out that it was true. It was so unbelievable that it seemed that the year was a waste; they couldn't believe they hadn't seen anything.

            "The boy's friends are miserable," spoke Professor Kohl, breaking the dim silence, "They are upset about their friend."

            "How… do you know that?" said Professor McGonagall, surprised.

            Professor Kohl looked sharply back at her. "Marindernia, naturally."

            "I think it's safe to say that they have the right to behave despondently, this time. They've finally let go," said Dumbledore. He stood again, gripping the edges of the table to support his weight. With his little strength, he ambled back to the doorway.

            He had noticed the mournful faces ever since his talk with Fudge. The way the students looked back at him for explanations while he attempted to talk some sense into the Minister. They knew he was fighting a loosing battle. But this time, Dumbledore had to admit it to himself. He always had hope in that boy.

*

            The Hogwarts common room was full of life; Ravenclaws packing, Hufflepuffs talking in low, shallow voices… Slytherins huddled in the corner, enormous smiles on their faces. The news about Harry had traveled through the entire school like wildfire, and they were easily the happiest bunch of student. They weren't counting on Harry coming back.**__**

            Ron, one out of many, couldn't stand it. As he brought his large, heavy trunk from the boy's dormitories, he spotted Malfoy amid a crowd of his friends. He was performing his ever so popular impression of Harry screaming in horror, pretending that a Dementor was about to suck out his soul. Ron felt some of the anger he had been holding in for the past week reach a dangerous point.

            "Sod off, Malfoy!" he shouted at him, making half the students look at him, "Yeah, you'd better shut up! I'll wring your neck, you stupid waste of flesh!"

            Malfoy sneered evilly from across the common room.

            "You'd better watch your mouth, Weasley," he said sourly.

            "Or what? You'll tell your Daddy?"

            "No," stated Malfoy calmly, his eyes blazing, "Because you really don't want to raise your voice around her, do you?"

            He pointed over Ron's head, at the balcony which overlooked the common room from the girl's dorms. Ron looked up and saw Hermione there, standing just beyond it so that only her head was visible. Eyes red and lip trembling, she spun around and ran back into the dorm. Ron's heart sank; she's was still crying.

            "Don't go looking for her, Ron," said Lavender, who had been standing nearby, "She still wants to be alone." She laid a hand on his shoulder and sighed.

            "Her stupidity… so stubborn," he said distractively, "Why does she have to be so stubborn?"

            "She's not. Just heartbroken."

            Ron nodded. Swallowing, he turned to her, and found his breath caught in his throat. The way she looked at him…

            "Y-you're pretty," he choked, "Er… I mean-" 

            Not once intelligent word came out of him after that.

            But Lavender smiled.

            "The banquet is about to start. We'd better go," she said, turning and leaving. Her shoulders shook as she did, Ron noticed. So cursing under his breath, he started to leave.

            "Ron!" shouted a boy behind him. Ron turned and saw that the boy speaking was a little Gryffindor. "Look! Your owl!"

            Ron thought the boy was out of his mind; he hadn't sent Pig out for a delivery. But when he looked up, he did indeed see an owl. Flying from the large, open window was a great snowy owl, glimmering from the beams of light behind it. A few people looked around at the owl, for it squawked and landed gracefully on an armchair near Ron.

            Ron was stunned. He approached the owl with mouth hanging open.

            "Hedwig?" he said.

            "It is your owl, isn't it?" said the Gryffindor boy.

            Ron looked at the letter attached to the bird's leg, and nodded at once. "Y-yeah, it's my owl." The boy shrugged and went back to his friends. 

            It was unbelievable… magnificent. This was Harry's owl. Why was she out of her cage? Certainly, Harry remembered to lock her up before he was taken to Azkaban. And there was a letter tied to her leg. Ron's stomach was doing summersaults. What was he going to do?

            Looking wildly around, Ron seized the owl, and spun around. The broom cupboard across the common room! It was perfect!

            Since the common room was nearly empty now, Ron didn't look completely like a mad man. He tore across the common room, Hedwig clicking her beak angrily all the way, threw open the door to the broom cupboard and jumped inside.

            He landed painfully in a large carton of magical mess remover. Hedwig toppled into a bucket.

            "Shut up, you dumb bird!" Ron cursed as Hedwig squawked again, "and give me that letter!" and he launched forwards in an attempt to untie the parchment from Hedwig's leg.

            It was tough. Ron knew that if he hurt Harry's bird, Harry would never speak to him again. And the bird was armed with a beak and a shard set of talons; Ron had hands.

            "You bloody bird! Give me it!" he shouted.

            Finally, he felt the leather bound give way as he managed to pull the letter off the owl's leg. A mad smile stretched across his face, and he hurriedly unfolded the parchment. From what he could see, it didn't have much written on it. He opened the cupboard door a crack to see properly, being that he was in semi darkness. 

            As he read, Hedwig waited on her overturned bucket, looking deeply angry.

_                                                                                                            Ron-_

_                                                                                                            Go to the North tower._

_                                                                                                                                    -Someone who thinks you're out of your mind._

            Ron nearly toppled of the carton when he had finished. He laughed, and jumped to his feet (his head hit the top of the cupboard, but he hardly cared). This was brilliant! Absolutely great! He had to leave the common room to find the north tower!

            Shouting something unintelligent, he threw open the doors of the cupboard and leapt out of it, hurrying out of the common room, the letter clenched tightly in his fist. Hedwig hooted defiantly and flew out the window.

*

            Hermione miserably walked over to her four-poster and continued to put all of her belongings into her trunk. Her spell books, her roles of parchment, and her robes. She was about put add her wand, but thought for a moment. She wished she had her wand back in the classroom, and even now, it was clenched in her hand, making it so simple to cast a spell now; she decided to pocket it instead. 

            Hermione spotted her dress that she wore to the Anika ball, squished between her work robes. The silky fabric glittered like it did the night she danced with Harry, yet it was wrinkled. There were a few threads hanging from the beadwork on the front of it; Hermione felt a new wave of tears well up in her eyes.

            "It's so stupid," she muttered distractedly, throwing the dress in with the lot of her trunk as well. Soon, it was covered over with her cloak and quills.

            "What's stupid?"

            Hermione turned around and saw Parvati standing in the doorway, a frown on her face. She had brought her trunk into the common room and Hermione hadn't noticed her return.

            Even though she knew she was unwanted, Parvati walked up to Hermione and sat on the edge of her bed. Hermione decided to ignore her; she didn't think she could handle her misty Trelawney voice and hear that the reason she under such a deep pool of despair was because of the position of Venus, or some other crazy prediction. So she stuffed the last of her clothes into her trunk.

            "Hermione, we need to talk," Parvati said calmly.

            "No we don't," replied Hermione flatly. She began to try to shut her trunk, putting both her hands on it and pushing as hard as she could.

            "Yes, we do."

            Hermione sniffed, feeling as if the tears she was holding were about to burst from her eyes, and sat on her trunk to attempt to latch the lock on. But it didn't help.

            "Listen, Hermione. You've been upset for a week. Ginny isn't going to take much of it anymore," continued Parvati, "It is about time to talk to Ron, isn't it? He's been asking me to check if you're OK for the past hour."

            Hermione tired to ignore her, but it was difficult. It was true; she had shunned Ron ever since the Ministry was in Dryconderoga. He had told Ginny to tell her that he had owled the Ministry, but there was no good in it. 

            "Well, he doesn't know when to give up, does he?" said Hermione coldly.

            Parvati sighed. She sat up and seized Hermione wrist.

            "Don't! What're you-"

            "Sit down. I want to tell you something."

            Hermione knew she wasn't about to leave her be so soon. So she left her stubborn and still open trunk and sat next to Parvati, whipping her hand across her eyes. After a moment of thinking how stupid this was and how she didn't need convincing, Parvati started talking.

            "Hermione, you know at the Yule ball? Last year?"

            "I was there, wasn't I?" said Hermione hotly. Parvati ignored her.

            "I thought it would be something special, because it would be the first at Hogwarts since I've been there. Harry asked me to go with him as a last resort, of course, and I could tell that he didn't enjoy my company much," continued Parvati, "I met with him in the entrance hall-"

            "Where are you getting with this?" Hermione interrupted angrily once again. She felt worse at the mere mention of Harry.

            "Shhh, Hermione!" scolded Parvati. Then, more seriously, she continued. "I met with him and we went into the hall with Ron. We were hardly five minutes into the ball when Harry spotted you…"

            Hermione face softened. Parvati smiled.

            "Hermione, he looked you over with his mouth open, and I don't think he noticed he stared at you for almost the entire night. Even when we were eating dinner he kept looking at you… you smiled at him a couple of times when he did, from what I remember." Parvati nudged her elbow, but Hermione jerked away.

            "Harry wouldn't like the way you're acting," said Parvati, frowning, "Not at all."

            She stood up, looked at Hermione for a moment, and then started for the door, shaking her head.

            "Parvati, wait," said Hermione loudly. She cast around for something to say once Parvati stopped to listen, "Has the… f-feast already started?"

Parvati nodded and then left.

            It would be the last feast of the year, and Hermione had to go, and if she hadn't, she'd have nothing to do. Her things were packed and the common room would surely be empty. Ron wouldn't be around, as he would have left in a fit of anger over Malfoy. So getting up, Hermione took her wand from her robes and pointed it at her stubborn trunk; with a well-chosen spell, it closed with a snap. Then she seized her trunk and pulled it to the door and out of the dorm without looking back.

            It was difficult pulling down a trunk down a spiral staircase and through a doorway that was narrower than the trunk itself. But Hermione reached the entrance hall and put her truck with the others from Hogwarts (they all had the Hogwarts emblem on the face of them.) Now she stood facing the Grand hall doors.

            There was a sure sound of hundreds of excited voices coming from behind it, echoing eerily. They sounded like they were having fun, but Hermione noticed a certain absence of chatter. Curiously, she wiped her eyes one last time and pushed open the doors.

            Everyone in the hall stopped and looked around at her. The people in the back stood up in their seats; the head table also stopped. Hermione would have given anything to just go invisible, because as she walked to her spot at the Hogwarts table, keeping her head very low, hundreds of eyes followed her until she sat down next to the twins. Gradually, everyone returned to their meal.

            "What're you looking at?" shouted Fred angrily down the table. Several heads looked away. "Barmy blokes. Been twittering away since this morning..."

            "Why don't you eat something, Hermione?" said George, thrusting a plate of boiled potatoes to her, but Hermione shook her head.

            "I'm not hungry."

            "That's rubbish!" piped up Fred, ladling some of the carrots onto her plate. Hermione inwardly screamed in annoyance; mouths appeared on the carrots, and once again, they starting talking.

            "Freckle boy!" screaming one of them.

            "What's with your hair, did it get sunburned?"

            "Opps! Wrong food," said Fred. He took Hermione plate and dumped the outraged carrots onto George's plate. "Now… what other delightful food will you eat, Hermione?"

            Shaking her head irritably, Hermione looked at him, "Why are you being so… _nice?"_

            "Well, you've saved our brother. That counts for something, doesn't it?" said George, "Even though Ron can be a stupid git sometimes."

            "Where is Ron anyway?" said Fred curiously.

            Hermione couldn't tell them what she saw, as her stomach was withering unpleasantly and her eyes started to sting. However, at the head table, Siamoen was tapping is goblet for attention.

            The chatter died down almost at once. Soon, every head was turned to the front of the hall to Siamoen, who was wearing bright purple robes with stars for the occasion. But he did not look happy. He approached a podium that was just ahead of the high table, and cleared his throat.

            "Another eventful year gone, I'm afraid. It could have been better, I must admit, but we have met some fabulous people, went to wondrous places… it was well worth it," said Siamoen, speaking loudly, "Even though the tournament has been canceled, I assure you that there will be a winner and the prize will be awarded. But first… some words from our champions. Miss. Cuapauil, will you please?"

            Mostly everyone in the hall looked around as Marindernia stood from the Nockdernia table. Hermione, whoever, did not bother to look; she didn't trust herself to. Marindernia walked down the row of house tables, not raising any applause or chatter. She nodded to Siamoen and stood at the podium.

            "H-hello," said quietly, looking around at all the staring eyes, "I just want to thank some people for my position. First of all, I'd like to thank Professor Kohl for preparing me for this tournament. Second, Nockdernia for their support," a few students, most likely her friends, put their hands together and applauded, but it didn't last long, "And third… Tisroc. He's been quite a competitor and he's been tough to rival with. But he has great support from his friends, as I do with mine, and I respect that. So thank you." Mild applause erupted from the Dryconderoga table. Through the heads, Hermione could see Tisroc looking surprised. "Lastly, I'd like to thank someone who is not here."

            Hermione sighed heavily and put her face in her hands, tears once again threatening to fall.

            "Harry Potter is the most spirited boy I have ever met. He was very kind to me when I spoke to him. He has some truly great friends at his school, Hogwarts. And I am sorry that I hurt him so badly," she paused. For the first time Hermione had known her, she looked genuinely upset and apologetic. Hermione moved around in her seat to see her properly. "I wish he was here now so that I can apologize personally. So I wish him and his friends best wishes."

            She nodded again to Siamoen, stepped away from the podium and went back to her place at the Nockdernia table, avoiding eyes all the way. Hermione didn't notice that her mouth was hanging open; she had never seen Marindernia behave like that. Maybe it was an act like the one she pulled at the ball. Somehow Hermione didn't think so.

            "Next up, Tisroc," said Siamoen.

            Hwin stood from his seat. He looked just as upset as Marindernia. Hermione watched only dimly as Hwin slowly made his way through the silent hall to the front, and stood at the podium.

            Whin stood unmoving on the spot but didn't speak. He looked around very hesitantly. It looked as though he wasn't ready; the hall started buzzing. Siamoen said a few words to him, which Hermione could not hear, and Whin finally cleared his throat to speak. "I just have a few things to say, so I wont take long," he looked like he wanted to finish this as soon as possible, "I know that the Hogwart's champion is missing, and like Marindernia said, I'm… grateful that I have met him. Potter, er… Harry Potter is the best flyer I have ever seen," This was too much; Hermione couldn't believe what they were saying. They hated Harry. What were they playing at? But Whin shook his head for a moment, opening and closing his mouth, looking for the right words with a rather overwhelmed look on his face.

            "Well, I should begin with… well, my father told me that a man set a Quidditch record seventeen years ago, about how fast a Seeker can race. A seeker normally isn't built for races, but this man did it. He outstripped me when I tried to break it, and he outstripped my father. I-I told Harry that I broke that record. But in truth I hadn't… James Potter, Harry's father, held the record. His son broke it in the second task of this tournament."

The hall started to buzz at once. Fred and George looked at each other, shocked.

            "Harry _what?_"

            "If Harry was here, I'd tell him personally. I'd also apologize for all the things I've said to him… and the lie. I'm just glad that the record went to someone worthy of it," finished Whin. He nodded, then left the podium and quickly sat back down at his table. A few people stood to get a good look at him. Hermione felt another wave of tears come over her.

            "Thank you, Tisroc… Marindernia," said Siamoen, getting to the podium again, "So… in closing, I think it's safe to say that the winner of the Tournament of Demontarity is Harry Potter, with fifty points. We wish him and Hogwarts well."

            No applause… no chatter. Nockdernia and Dryconderoga accepted the outcome of the tournament and said nothing of it. Siamoen went back to his spot at the high table, where he was immediately emerged in a conversation with Dumbledore.

            "Well, that's it then," said Fred dryly, "It's over."

            "Yeah…" said George, "I bet Hagrid'll be waiting for us, then. Let's go, Fred."

They stood up and joined the thronging mass of students leaving the hall. All around Hermione, people got up and left, but Hermione didn't. 

She put her face in her hands, sniffing. She was going to leave soon… when she leaves the hall, she'd go back home. Without Harry. What was going to happen to him?

            Hermione looked behind her and saw that most Dryconderoga students had left their table to see off the Hogwarts and Nockdernia students. Some had remained in their seats, talking in low whispers. And most of them were watching Hermione.

            Hermione wanted to march right up to them and slap them all. But for a moment, it seemed like they got their punishment; a few of the Dryconderoga girls screamed.

            "WHAT'S THAT?"

            "IT'S A BOY!"  
            Hermione looked around and spotted a boy on his knees, scuttling past the Dryconderoga table, and apparently they snagged the girl's robes on his way by. This boy was Ron. Hermione's mouth fell open.

            "Excuse me," said a Dryconderoga student, looking at Hermione, "But does this belong to you?" 

            "Shut up, you!" said Ron, getting to his feet, red in the face, "I didn't see them there!"

            Hermione had enough. What with all that was happening, this was just too much.

            "T-this is ridiculous," mumbled Hermione, getting up from her spot and starting towards the hall doors, but Ron, resembling an over-excited chimpanzee, hurried after her.

            "Hermione, no! I have to show you something before we leave," he howled, throwing himself across the doors, arms and legs spread out like a star fish to block her way. Hermione stopped in front of him, looking annoyed.

            "Ron, not now. I'm not in the mood. And you wonder why I haven't spoken to you."

            "No I haven't wondered, why would I do that? Just because you refuse to talk to me and discuss what happened when Fudge got here? No, why would I wonder that? I mean, you always act stubborn, you don't expect me to be surprised, do you?" he said this all very fast. Hermione stared.

            "Ron, why are you acting like this?" said Hermione slowly, "Harry's gone." She looked away at once when she said this; her eyes started to sting. But Ron barely noticed.

            "No, no, no, Hermione!" said Ron, an enormous smile on his face, "Don't start with… you know what? Cry all you want. But you have to follow me." Suddenly, he seized her wrist and started to drag her across the hall. The Dryconderoga students watched them go.

            "Nutty, the whole lot of them," said one of them, shaking their head, "Pity they leave soon."

            Hermione screamed and struggled as Ron dragged her through the north wing corridor.

            "Ron, I'm going to kill you when you finally come to your senses!" she shrieked angrily, "Let-me-go!"

            Ron just laughed and continued to pull her along. "No way, you've got to see. I'll let you go when we get there."

            "Get where?"

            "To the north tower, of course!"

            Hermione couldn't do anything but only half-heartedly pull away now. By the time they reached the entrance to the north tower, Ron let go of her.

            "I reckon you should go in there, Hermione," he said, grinning foolishly. He opened the door to the north tower. "You know, before we leave, and all."

            "Why should I-"

            "You'd want to find out."

Hermione watched Ron carefully. She knew that strange triumphant look on his face. That same strange look Hermione hated but made her feel curious at the same time… he was up to something.

            "Is this good… or bad?" Hermione asked him. Ron chuckled.

            "Blimey, you're thick!" he said, "Go find out yourself!"

            Hermione continued to study him. He knew better than to toy around with her at such a time; he knew that if he'd upset her, she'd hit him around the head for it. So this had to be good. It had to be.

            Eventually, Hermione turned around, facing the tall, spiraling staircase that led to the top of the tower. Nodding to herself more than Ron, she started forwards. She slowly climbed up the winding steps, and just about ten steps up, Hermione looked down at Ron, and for some reason, she sensed herself nod confidently.

            The steps leading to the tower seemed like they had grown in numbers since Hermione had climbed them last; she, Harry and Ron met Sirius in the north tower earlier that year. Perhaps it was because the unnerving feeling settling in Hermione's stomach. She didn't know why or what made her feel this way; her heart was beating faster and she was determined to keep climbing, but hesitant all the same. The thought of Ron advising her to go to the north tower was ridiculous, since they were to leave any minute. Then why was she climbing the stairs? Why was her stomach in knots?

            She could see light above… she was near the top. Her feet started climbing faster and she started to breath more quickly, looking up, eyes wide. Finally, she reached to top.

            The first thing that came to her eyes was the sunny grounds from the open walls all around the tower. The brass telescopes gleamed in the bright light and the serpent statues didn't seem all that scary anymore. It was a lot warmer than the last time Hermione was up here. But despite the disquieting feeling in Hermione's stomach, there was nothing special here… it all looked normal. She didn't know what she was expecting.

            Looking over the banister, Hermione saw that Ron had gone.

            She couldn't explain the disappointment that was welling up inside her now. It was only settled slightly when she walked to the edge of the tower and looked down. There was an enormous crowd of people at the great doors to the entrance hall; the little dots of people were scattered all over the grounds. There was a train (which Hermione supposed ran on tracks that were conjured up earlier) that was obviously for Nockdernia and the enormous dragon tethered to the hundreds of carriages. Hermione could see that the train and the carriages were gradually getting filed with students.

            Ron had probably thought up this joke of Hermione going up here, hoping for something to happen. He was probably running through the entrance hall right now to get the best carriage. He had obviously been talking to Fred and George.

            Hermione sighed deeply and, back to the wall, slid down to the bottom of it, bringing her knees up to her chest. She'd have to go to King's Cross station without Harry. When would he come back if he wasn't back soon? Hermione could not go to the Dursley's to find Harry if he arrived there because she doubted they'd let a witch near them. What if he couldn't send her a letter? What if Hedwig had to be locked up all summer again? 

            Hermione's eyes started to cloud up at another thought. She had been upset that Harry wasn't at Dryconderoga at the moment all week. Perhaps Harry would never leave Azkaban.

            "It… can't h-happen," Hermione sniffed, burying her face in her arms, "It j-just can't."

            Her heart was burning, worse than when she was put under the Cruciatus curse. How was she going to get through this?

            "H-Harry…" sobbed Hermione.

            Tear poured from her eyes and she felt that crying was the only way to feel better. But she didn't comprehend that she was wrong, yet again. She hadn't felt that other presence in the tower.

            A sensation fell across Hermione's body… it was so odd, because she had felt so cold before. Now she felt oddly warm. She stopped crying for a moment, wondering what was going on… no sooner had she gone quiet when a voice spoke.

            "Herm, please don't cry."

            Hermione gasped and looked up. She furiously blinked several times to see properly, but saw nothing. Was she hearing things?

            "You know I don't like it when you cry," said the voice again. It was easy for Hermione to register that the voice was calm and soothing, for it was very much nearby.

            Hermione started to get scared. She scrambled to her feet, still leaning against the wall, wildly looking around. There was no doubting that someone had spoken. Was it a ghost? But there weren't any at Dryconderoga…

            "W-who's there?" Hermione said squeakily.

            Nothing. A moment later… Hermione heard a noise on her right. Footsteps, coming nearer. But there was nobody there!

            "Don't come any closer!" she warned. She forgot that she had her wand with her in fright, but the footsteps stopped and the voice spoke again.

            "Hermione, calm down. You're going to fall over the edge," said the soft but sharp voice. It actually sounded like, whoever it was, really did want her to be careful. "Just… get away from there."

            Hermione, trembling slightly, nodded and took one small step forwards, looking blindly at her right. "W-what do you want?"

            "Ron didn't tell you to go up here as a prank," said the voice, sounding much calmer, "He wanted me to meet you here."  
            "Why?" demanded Hermione.

            "Well, that's the way he is, isn't it?"

            Hermione raised her eyebrows. She didn't know who this person was, but then she realized that her stomach was slowly easing. But there was an invisible intruder near her. How could she be calm?

            "Honestly, I'd be a lot more… _steady if I knew who was speaking to me," said Hermione, "Who are you?"_

            Nothing for a moment. Then the unmistakable sound of a sigh. "Have I really been away for that long?"

            Hermione's legs relaxed… her arms hung loosely at her sides. "W-what?"  
            The person laughed. "You can be very thick when you want to be, Hermione. I've never known you to be that way."

            The breath caught in her throat. Footsteps again… but Hermione found that she didn't care. In fact… she really didn't care that she didn't know who this person was or where they came from. They were slowly starting to sound familiar.

            "You're very beautiful, Hermione," said the voice. This time, it was just in front of her, "Even with red eyes." Something soft touched her cheek… someone's hand, and a thumb grazing just below her eye. Hermione wanted to melt on the spot. "You don't know how long I've waited to see you again… to touch you."

            Hermione's face paled. She knew who it was… it had to be him. Mouth slightly open, she reached up and felt his arm; moving up it, she felt his hand on her face and took it. It felt like the only thing she could possibly do.

            "Harry…" breathed Hermione.

            He squeezed her hand.

            Feeling a sudden sensation that she hadn't felt before, more tears fell from Hermione's eyes. But they were tears of joy… after so many nights, she finally smiled. With her free hand, she reached forwards; the back of her hand touched his chin… she felt the fabric of the invisibility cloak and clasp… with trembling fingers, she unfastened it.

            The cloak fell from his shoulders and landed in a heap on the ground behind him.

            Hermione's knees buckled with one look at him… one glance into his brilliant green eyes.

            "I came back for you, Hermione," he told her, a small smile on his boyish face, "I promised myself that I'd come back for you. I wouldn't leave you… because I love you."

            Hermione sniffed, blinking at him, and said, "I l-love you too, Harry."

            And before she really knew what she was doing, before she even considered what she was about to do, she launched forwards, tilting her head up… and found his lips.

            Hermione was finally aware of what she had done when nothing had happened. Nothing at all. Maybe she was too quick… he had just come out of Azkaban, after all. Maybe he didn't love her _that_ much. She started to panic… what was she going to do? Stand here, lips locked to his? Wait a moment… his lips moved. They started to move furiously and Hermione replied in the same way. It was wonderful and... wait a minute. What was she thinking about again?

            Hermione forgot about everything. About Ron's prank, about Harry's sentence to Azkaban and about the necklace and Voldemort. In fact, all that she could think of was him. Harry's hands slid down her back, softly landing and gripping her waist; Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and enjoyed this all she could, replying to Harry's kiss with all the strength she could muster. It was a lot of work, considering that she was light-headed. But his lips felt so soft and terribly convivial.

            After what felt like seconds to Hermione, Harry pulled away. He didn't stray far, however. Lowering his head, breathing deeply, he spoke into her ear very softly. "If the love is strong enough, the world can alter into something realistic as well as unreal. It's all in the power of two hearts."

            Hermione nodded, smiling. "Yours and mine," she replied just as softly as Harry laid a small kiss on her neck and put his forehead to hers.

            They stood there, foreheads together, just enjoying each others presence. They soon remembered that they were to leave the castle very soon. So they released each other and started to leave to tower. Neither of them spoke… nothing needed to be said. This was clearly the happiest day of their lives.

            The remaining Dryconderoga students sitting at the tables in the hall stared, open mouthed, as Harry and Hermione crossed the hall to the entrance hall. They started whispering at once. Looking behind her, the last thing Hermione saw was the students getting up and following them before she and Harry entered the entrance hall, which was deserted. But pushing open the great doors to the grounds, they would never be prepared for what would happen next.

            They pushed open the doors and stood, transfixed, at what was there. They were surrounded by students, professors and even reporters. Slowly, they noticed Harry and Hermione standing there. Some pointed at them and others gasped, looking horror-struck. Dean, Seamus, the twins, Lavender, Parvati and about a dozen more Gryffindors stared at them, smiled stretched across their faces. But this odd silence was broken by a booming voice from none other than Ron, who had pushed his way through the crowd of people- "I told you the Ministry was soft, Hermione! I'm not so thick after all, am I?"

            That did it. There was an uproar of hollers and shouts and Hermione found herself in a swarm of tangled bodies. 

            "Harry, you great prat, it's about time!" shouted Fred over the noise, pounding him on the back.

            "Yeah, we were ready to give you up for Hagrid's dragon!" said George, elbowing Lee to swat Harry in the arm.

            "No, I'm still here!" said Harry, laughing

            Hermione was pushed this way and that by the crowd of students, hugged each by a giggling Lavender, Parvati and Ginny and had her hand shaken a few times until she finally found Ron. He was fighting his way to her, beaming.

            "You planned our meeting in the tower, didn't you?" said Hermione, using a loud voice to be heard over the loud noise, checks glowing with happiness, "You had it all worked out?"

            "Well, yeah! I got an owl from Harry this morning. I'd say that it worked pretty well… I am, after all, the only one who knew you two were up there," replied Ron. He looked very annoying. Then Hermione thought… 'oh look, everything's back to normal'. "So I was the only one looking up there and…" He turned around, cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed, "Harry and Hermione, sitting in a tower, K-I-S-S-I-"

            "Ron!" Hermione shrieked, hitting his arm. However, she found that she couldn't help but smile.

            "But seriously, Hermione," said Ron, massaging his arm, "It must have taken a lot to make himself get out." He stopped and looked over at Harry, who as the moment was being mauled by the rest of Hogwarts. "It's a horrible place, you remember what Hagrid said. You didn't seriously think that Harry would leave you, did you?"

            Hermione smiled. "No. I never really did."

            "Potter!"

            A familiar voice, louder than the rest of them, fell upon the crowd. Hermione and Ron, being at the edge of it, hadn't seen what was coming. The crowd was parting to let someone through, until only Harry was left. Whispering buzzed like little hissing fires. From between the heads in front of her, Hermione could see Harry's smile fading.

            It was Silversmith, still looking in bad shape. He hobbled over to Harry, leaning heavily on a staff. "Looks like you did it, boy. You gave those Dementors as good thumping, did you?" Harry looked like he never wanted to do such a thing, but he smiled anyways. Clearly, Silversmith was in a good mood, and clearly, Harry knew why.

            "Are you going back, Sir?" Harry asked him. Silversmith nodded.

            "The Minister wants me back at work at once, and I have you to thank for it. I took the job of protecting you because… well, I knew you're parents when you were very young. And I'm glad to see you're the spitting image of them."

            Harry didn't say anything for a moment. He nodded a moment later, and said, "Thank you, Sir."

            "You're good lad," said Silversmith. He reached inside his robes and pulled out a dragon hide sack. A few people gasped. It clinked with the sound of thousands of galleons as Silversmith passed it to Harry, whose mouth had fallen open. Almost at once, he thrust it back to Silversmith.

            "I-I don't want this," he said to him, "I don't deserve it."

            "I trust you'll make the right decision. The other champions want a word with you." He stepped to the side, and behind him was Marindernia. She looked very grave. Starting towards Harry, Hermione went tense. Could Harry really trust her? Ron was plainly thinking the same thing, because he pushed through the people in front of him, closer to Harry. Hermione followed him.

            "I just wanted to apologize, Harry," said Marindernia thickly, looking round at Hermione and Ron, then back at Harry, whose face was expressionless. "There was no excuse for it. I did not mean to do what I did and I want to ask for your forgiveness. I don't have much else to say."

            Harry watched her intently. "It wasn't your fault," he said, "I forgive you, but it should be me thanking you," a grin started creeping up onto his face, "for showing my friend a… er… good time at the ball."

            Nearly everyone laughed (except Ron, who went as red as his hair, and Lavender, who looked outraged). Even Marindernia chuckled, her purple eyes dancing. Looking very relieved, she stepped back and joined her friends, who bombarded her with questions at once. 

            Tisroc Whin soon appeared where Marindernia had been. He looked, if possible, a little more anxious than he did earlier in the hall.

            "Ron told me all about your speech," Harry told him seriously, "I never knew that my dad held that record, and I never knew I broke it. I thought you held it."

            Whin didn't know what to say. He obviously couldn't tell if Harry was angry, and neither could Hermione.

            "I'm said that I was sorry-" started Whin.

            "You don't need to apologize. You already have, really. Thanks for telling the truth about my dad," said Harry. Whin tried to smile, but it came out very strange looking.

            "I'm glad you won, Potter. You really deserve it."

            Harry shook his head. "I don't deserve it. You and Marindernia didn't call off the tournament." He looked down at the sack of galleons. For a moment he didn't do anything; but then he reached up and untied the bag, starting towards Whin. Stopping in front of him, he reached inside his robes and took out his wand. Everyone watched in awe as he muttered some words Hermione couldn't hear, and suddenly, the bag of gold he held was shrinking and rattling. It took a while for Hermione to realize what Harry was doing, but after a moment, it became obvious.

            Tisroc and Marindernia each carried identical sacks, just like Harry's. They shook them, and the sound of gold chimed happily inside it. Their mouths fell open and everyone watching started whispering again. Harry was grinning.

            "There. Now we have even amounts," said Harry brightly, tucking his generously smaller sack of gold into his robes and putting his wand back in his pocket, "It's an equal victory now."

            Hermione was finally aware of how many Nockdernia and Dryconderoga students were in the crowd because they roared with applause and cheers at that moment. Whin and Marindernia were immediately whisked off their feet into a swarm of their fellow students, each of them still looking shocked.

            Hermione and Ron immediately went to Harry.

            "That was awfully generous, Harry," said Ron in an undertone, "Are you sure you want to do that? I mean… its Whin!"

            "Harry, that was so kind of you," said Hermione, kissing his check. 

            "Yes it was, Miss. Granger."

            They all turned around and saw Dumbledore. He was glowing. The twinkle in his eyes had returned and he looked loads better than Hermione had last seen him. Harry's sudden arrival clearly cheered him up immensely. Most Hogwarts students were watching him.

            "Azkaban hasn't darkened your spirits at all, Mr. Potter. Your parents would have been proud," said Dumbledore.

            Hermione looked at Harry, and was relieved to see that he was smiling. She took his hand and he squeezed it.

            "Sir? Can we go home now?" Neville asked Dumbledore, tugging on his sleeve.

            "Yes… yes we can, Mr. Longbottom."

*

            Ron leapt into a carriage at once when they reached them. Harry helped Hermione inside it, and then he climbed inside himself. Hermione looked out the window; the steam engine which held the Nockdernia students was already moving, and as it did, the tracks behind it vanished. Faces were glued to the windows, arms waving madly through the open windows. They soon disappeared over a hill.

            "Are you glad to leave?" Hermione heard a voice close to her ear. She turned around and found Harry's smiling face. She grinned and shook her head.

            "Not at all," she replied, wrapping him in a tight hug.

            "ARRRGGGGHHHH! No! Not this again!" shouted Neville, whom was in the next carriage behind Harry, Ron and Hermione. Once again, Dean and Seamus were pushing him through the door, howling with laughter.

            "Oy, Neville! Hang in there. We have only, what, four hundred miles to go?" Ron called to him, "Better bring an extra pair of pants!"

            Neville fell into the carriage with a force that shook Harry, Ron and Hermione's carriage. He sat restlessly between Dean and Seamus, who were red with mirth.

            And no sooner was there a thunderous roar from the dragon, and Hagrid's excited howls. They were ready to go. Hermione looked out the window and watched as they left the ground a few feet, then a few more feet. Soon, they were high in the sky. Harry and Ron looked out the window as well, to the ground where the Dryconderoga students waved enthusiastically at them.

            "That's it, then," said Harry, still looking out the window, "That's all this year."

            Hermione slid her arm under his and took his hand, making him look at her, eyes glistening. He was thinking about how fast his time at school was going and Hermione didn't understand why. He had great skills, a great sense of determination… 

            "Listen, Harry. You can live your life like a regular person, but you must understand that you've changed someone's life," she said softly to him, pushing aside a stray hair from his bright eyes. "Harry, you've inspired me. Doesn't that mean something?"

            "It means everything, Herm," said Harry, smiling and squeezing her hand. Through this all, they hadn't noticed Ron, looking intrigued, watching.

            "Ohhhhh, wait 'till I tell Sirius about this!" he said eagerly.

            But Hermione found she didn't care about his outburst. She had Harry again. She was safely going home with the numbers they arrived with. She hadn't managed to shake off Ron, but two out of three isn't that bad. And Hermione became aware of what Fred and George had been whispering about all year; there was a blast and suddenly, sparks whizzed by the carriages. They had left off several fireworks; bursts of pink, yellow and red exploded all around them. Neville screamed.

            Harry lightly kissed Hermione's lips. "You do know that you're stuck with me, right?" he said to Hermione, touched his forehead to hers. 

            "I'd like nothing better, Harry."

            Yes, Hermione left Dryconderoga with all she wanted this year. A boy whom she had known for nearly five years; a boy with eyes that captured Hermione's every emotion. Hermione left with Harry Potter, the boy she loved, and it was what she always dreamed of.

**…~'*'~… THE END …~'*'~…**

**A/N: Ohmygoodnesss, ohmygoodness, ohmygoodness. I'm finished. Finished. Kaput. Done. Well, there's a new story on the horizon, and if for some reason you're reading my author's note this time and haven't any other time, go back to chapter 23 and see the review of it in my other A/N.**

            Now… to the depressing part. I had a great time writing this. It was difficult, but I laughed. That makes it all worth it, right? Well, that and experiencing the thrill of people actually enjoying this story. I love you all and hope that you'll live safe and happy lives! *snicker* But I'll be back, after a break. You can find me on www.portkey.org C-YA!

**_H/H FOREVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER… because you know it'll happen ^_^_**


End file.
